#now i scared ill binge it and not notice when it becomes night

[badmemoryneko]

finally decided to watch the doctor who pilot and it was like

[9tzuyu]

dissolve (rewrite)

natasha x reader

note: this was just a huge vent fic idk. these type of fics seem to be the only thing im okay at writing. mistakes are mine as always. but i did proofread, yay!

if you want to read the original (as awful as it is) you can read it here!

wanrings: this heavily revolves around eating disorders.

i’m not tagging anyone because the content isn’t really the lightest to read.

words are used everyday, everywhere – whether to describe something or someone. there’s thousands upon thousands of them.

so you were having a hard time figuring out why you were struggling so much to justify your feelings through the basis of words. it was unnerving, draining and very annoying. your emotions should be simple, right? you were either sad or happy, angry or scared. but there was something more, something unexplainable. saying you felt alone only scratched the surface of the wave of emotion that took over. it was excruciatingly painful, far worse than any physical pain you ever had to endure. and for some reason it seemed to come crashing down at night while natasha slept peacefully. you weren't exactly sure how to express your emotions to the extent you felt them. how else was anyone supposed to understand your pain? they couldn't, not unless they could somehow shift into your body and feel your emotions themselves. but that was merely impossible as such powers do not exist. so you were inevitably stuck with words foreign to your lips. over the years you were deemed unsafe, a hazard, "an accident waiting to happen" you recall one doctor say. everyone’s eyes were on you at all times, monitoring every little movement you made. it was suffocating and at times doing more damage than good.

as an adult now you learned how freeing it could be without the fear of gaining weight or eating a bowl full of rainbow marshmallow cereal. your worth was not defined by your weight.

(at least that's what you believed prior to any relapses.) everything was going well in your life. you were a college graduate working as a psychiatric nurse and you had found love, something your teenage self could only dream of. natasha was by your side through everything. and really, the only downfall in the relationship was that she had to travel a lot for her job. but you were secure enough in your relationship not to worry or decide to call things off. in the end natasha always made up for it when she came back, so you couldn't complain too much. things were going well for you, really, they were. until they weren't. (and you didn't know why.) it happened out of nowhere. work was a little more stressful than usual, but it was nothing you couldn't handle. natasha had been away for three months, only stopping by a few times to check in on you. but again, your wife being away for so long wasn't anything new or worrisome. the two of you had followed the routine of her leaving and coming back more than a thousand times; yet somewhere along the way you lost yourself. food became less of a priority, your hunger decreased drastically, and within the first month you'd lost thirteen pounds. it truly was an accident, slipping into a full blown relapse was never part of the plan. but thirteen pounds lighter you wanted more, to feel small again. you didn't have an answer as to why you became so attached to your eating disorder, but it didn't seem like it would be letting go any time soon. the rate at which you were going natasha would most definitely be able to see a difference; not only on your weight, but in the person you once were. she'd ask what happened and why it happened, poking and prodding for an answer, but you didn't have one. so here you stood in the kitchen of your shared home, a cup of sliced fruit in one hand and your cell phone in the other. you poured the fruit into the bottom of a blender along with a spoonful of yogurt and half a cup of soy milk. another half cup of ice followed suit. while the fruit blended, you shamelessly scrolled through your instagram. there was nothing interesting going on in other people's lives, you didn't even know why you had social media in the first place. it was dumb, and quite frankly you didn't give a shit whether or not sharon went to the beach. the sound of your blender coming to a halt brought your attention back to the real world. you poured your smoothie into your water bottle. the green liquid would be your breakfast and lunch for the day - dinner was still up for debate. a soft sigh left your lips. work was beginning to feel more like a chore and less of something you enjoyed. you were quickly growing tired of it. nonetheless, you grabbed your keys and rushed out of the door.

you thought about the irony of working as a psychiatric nurse with an undealt eating disorder telling teenagers how to deal with their own issues. you felt hypocritical to say the least, especially given that all the nasty side effects were starting to make themselves known.

your hair was beginning to thin, small clumps of it already starting to fall out when you tugged a little too hard. bruises could be seen scattered left and right on your body, and you were cold. god you were cold. your fingernails were tinted blue, warmth seemingly too far out of reach. you looked ill, and it didn't go unnoticed by your coworkers.

a few hours into your shift you found yourself sitting behind the nurses station filling out paperwork. lunch had passed and when your coworker, steve, asked if you were going to eat something you lied straight through your teeth, telling him you'd grab something when the patients were eating dinner.

but steve rogers could read you like an open book. he knew you were lying because he already knew what was going on. the signs of an eating disorder were quite obvious when you were a licensed therapist. and despite your futile attempts at hiding it, everyone could tell something wasn't right.

steve played it by ear for weeks until he contacted natasha, but by then you'd already lost a considerable amount of weight. as soon as she heard the news, natasha booked the next flight home. unfortunately for her though, there was only one flight and she would have to wait two and a half weeks before being able to leave.

you didn't know it, but those were the longest two and a half weeks natasha ever had to wait.

– patients were having group therapy, so you could tune them out - not that you should, but it was hard to focus when the only two things you could think about were food and your weight.

the need to lose weight sounded so stereotypical for someone with an eating disorder, but honestly it wasn't about that. it was never about wanting to be thin. you genuinely didn't know why this was happening. the only thing you noticed was how rewarding it felt seeing the number go down, as if for you were good for becoming less. it was addictive. and it didn't help that you based your entire worth on how much you could lose.

the next time you stood up from behind the nurses station steve met you in the the cafeteria. while the patients ate you took occasional sips from your smoothie. the bottle was still full of its contents from the morning. you had completely forgotten to drink it during the day, but you didn't seem to mind it that much.

the surprise touch of steve's hand on your shoulder startled you.

i am gross, you thought. do not do that.

steve caught onto the slight flinch your body produced as a reflex, but he didn't say anything about it.

"you can leave early, boss said so."

he laughed as he saw confusion plaster your face.

"what? no!"

"go home, seriously. we have this handled. you know tony doesn't like being told no."

you bit your lip, puzzled by the sudden request. most people wouldn't mind being sent home early, but all it did for you was give you a level of anxiety reserved for food.

what you didn't know was that natasha was home waiting for your arrival. she came back just short of an hour after you left for work.

while you were gone natasha made a few thorough rounds in the house looking for key signs of your eating disorder. there was bound to be evidence given that you didn't know she was home.

unsurprisingly, natasha found a glass scale beside the counter of the bathroom floor along with empty bottles of laxatives in the trashcan. the food in the fridge had been expired a few days past their date, giving her the indication that you weren't eating as much as you should be. her concern grew even more when she found your food journal on your nightstand. flipping the pages, natasha could see that throughout the moths she'd been gone your calorie intake had decreased significantly.

guilt began to gnaw at the back of her throat.

during the few days natasha stopped by, she hadn't noticed anything wrong with you. but then again she knew most people with eating disorders were very good at hiding them up until the point they were discovered. three days wasn't near enough time for her to catch onto your tricks, not when her mind was still focused on her job.

natasha always listened intently whenever you would talk about your eating disorder, the first time being six months into the relationship on a date you felt like you had ruined.

but talking about it was much different than experiencing it with you, natasha had never done that before up until now. she read nearly every article there was about anorexia, bulimia, binge eating disorder and ednos. sometimes when you were asleep she would watch documentaries on the disorder, always making sure to keep her volume at a low level.

the videos that hurt her the most were the ones teenagers struggling with the simple task of eating food.

(although natasha knew it wasn't that simple.)

it hurt because she knew that was you at some point in time.

upon your arrival, natasha cooked dinner. she wanted to hold onto the one sliver of hope that steve was wrong - that he was just overreacting - but she knew in her heart he was right about his assumption. however, dinner would only confirm what natasha so desperately wanted to deny.

when you walked through the door you were greeted with the overwhelming scent of food. you cringed at the thought of having to eat, but as soon as you looked up to see the redhead who'd been gone for so long your frown was washed away. a wide smile overtook your face and you rushed to jump into natasha's arms.

"i missed you so much," you whispered. "i thought you'd be gone for another few weeks?"

natasha's arms found their way around your waist as your legs wrapped around hers. "what? i can't come home early to surprise my wife?" you giggled in the crook of her neck. she smiled feeling the vibrations against her skin, happy to know that you'd missed her just as much as she missed you.

she sat you down, back facing you, she tended to the food. "you've lost weight," she commented, not missing the sharp inhale of your breath.

"how was work, nat?"

she nodded to herself. yeah, she didn't expect you to be so open on the first try.

"it was fine. dinner's ready, i made your favorite!" natasha threw a smile in your direction as she carried the plates over to the table. she had hoped to see your face light up the way it used to, but seeing the panicked look in your eyes further confirmed your relapse.

if nothing else, natasha wanted you to have a meal before she brought up the conversation.

"great... i love it, thank you nat!" your attempt at being enthusiastic failed miserably and you knew by the look she gave you, she already knew what was going on.

but throughout the meal, and despite the shakiness of your hand as it gripped the metal fork, natasha didn't say anything.

you weren't really sure which was worse; being confronted or knowing the both of you knew what the other was thinking and still not addressing it.

natasha's meal was good, you couldn't lie about that, but each bite you chewed caused the tightening in your chest to constrict further.

now you couldn't be good. or worthy. or deserving.

nat took away your plate when you were halfway through. she knew your limits, and she didn't want to push you too much out of your comfort zone.

"go change, i'll wash our dishes. meet you on the couch?"

you did as you were told, taking as long as you could to do so. except this time was different. you didn't glance in the mirror like you usually did, you chose to fully take in your figure.

what you saw was not what you expected to see. for the first time in months you saw a version of yourself that wasn't twisted and turned to be something you didn't know was real or not.

your skin was dry, hair thinned out beyond your belief, eyes sunken and dark underneath. the revelation gave you an odd feeling – was once again something unexplainable, unjustifiable by words.

good.

that was how you were supposed to feel, right? after all of this time, after the many pounds of protection and warmth lost, you were supposed to feel good.

but you didn't. and you never would.

there was something so surreal about the realization of your own destruction. you were aware now, which meant you had to either take responsibility or choose to lose everything you worked so hard for.

"y/n?"

your wife's voice snapped you out of your gaze and you scrambled to pile your dirty clothes and rush out of the bedroom.

as you made your way into the living room you could feel the intensity of natasha's gaze. any other time you would not mind her green eyes looking at you, but this time around you felt like you were in trouble.

she patted the empty spot next to her, to which you reluctantly joined. but even after everything you still tried to play it cool.

"what's up? is everything okay?"

she gave a low chuckle, "you tell me."

"what do you mean?"

"oh i think you know what i mean."

natasha’s reply was met with the loudest silence you ever had to sit through.

she bit her lip, "you know i got a call from steve a few weeks ago. he's concerned about you, and from what he's told me so am i."

you were quick to respond, automatically knowing what steve’s phone call was about. "i'm fine. so what if i've lost a couple of pounds? that doesn't automatically mean that im relapsing, natasha."

your quick snap reminded natasha that this kind of confrontation was like walking on eggshells.

she tilted her head, licking her lips. "i'm here with you, always." nat put a hand to the side of your face, gently rubbing her thumb at the top of your cheekbone. "i'm here."

it seemed pointless now to try and say anything because your secret was already out.

your mind began racing back and forth.

you wanted to keep what you knew best and natasha understood that. even by reading your body language she knew what you were debating.

"you know, to keep it you have to give it away." your eyes darted to meet hers. "mhm. you can still have that piece of you. mourn it, grieve it, do whatever you need to do to move onto a stage where it doesn't hurt you. and from there you can help other people, share your experience, let yourself heal by helping others."

she paused, “we all have choices. some of those choices are taken from you while others leave you with only one option.”

although what she said seemed to resonate with you, there was one thing still holding you back.

"i just want to be good."

natasha hummed. you had explained it to her in the past, though your words were jumbled together as you tried to describe it.

"you can be good in other ways. you're allowed to live a life outside of the barriers your eating disorder puts in the way."

you swallowed the lump in the back of your throat. "i don't even know how it got to this point. in january i enjoyed ihop and dennys. in february i could have oatmeal and bananas, sometimes half of a sandwhich if i was feeling brave. now it’s march and i only eat one or two things a day. the idea of having a full meal makes me want to cry. and i just- i don't know how to stop."

natasha wouldn't show it, but your words cut through her heart like a knife. her mind wandered briefly to all the teenagers in the documentaries she'd watched, hoping you weren't too far gone into your eating disorder to ever come back. those cases scared her the most.

"you've got my complete support. you've tackled this before, maybe this time you can beat it? i know its easier to abuse your body instead of growing comfortable in it, but i think you’ve got this. i know you do."

"what about your work?" your question caused natasha to frown. "you think i wouldn't set my job aside for you?" you shrugged, it's not like you felt like you were worth being taken care of anyway.

natasha grew hesitant to tell you her news, but did it anyway because she’d rather you hate her than see you dead. "i've already made some appointments for you. the first one is tomorrow morning."

"i figured you would natasha. it's okay."

you spaced yourself out the rest of the day. each time you made the executive decision to recover, whether that be a genuine recovery or not, the process never failed to remind you that even trying to recover from an eating disorder felt like mourning the loss of a friend who was never good for you in the first place.

[storysofmyown]

Obey me! The passing of time

Plot: One by one, the brothers start to notice how Mc changes as time goes by.

Warning: None that I can think of

Word Count:2480 words

*********************************

It started slow, very slow. You never noticed, of course you didn't. For you, this was something entirely normal but for the demons, it wasn't. After all, they could live for millenniums without suffering much but a cold but... for a human well... that's another story.

So no, you didn't notice as you grew older and started to look older, but the brothers certainly did.

The first one to notice was Asmodeus. The two of you were in one of those intense cuddling sessions; while he stroked your hair, he suddenly noticed a white hair. It made him froze in an instant.

Aging

It was such a slow process for them, for demons, angels and alike. But for humans, humans didn't even have a fraction of a demons life span. They all knew it. Humans were so fragile that even sleeping in a wrong position could hurt them. Yet, here you were. A human, surrounded by demons and still being able to hold your self with such confidence, sometimes even he forgot you were not one of them. Nevertheless, here you were mortal. Because you were human after all.

Asmodeus stared at your sleeping face, so peaceful... It made his heart ache, how has he gotten so close to you? To appreciate you as much as he does? To cherish you, to adore you...to love you? That night, he vowed to make the best of the time you two spend together. Occasionally, you noticed his sad face while painting your nails... but you never mentioned it.

The next one to notice was Belphegor; you usually napped together after classes every day, to get your energy up. However, he started to notice unusual sleeping patterns, the way you slept less at night and more during the day. At first, he thought it was probably Leviathan keeping you awake while gaming at night or watching some anime, but when Levi made a comment about you not connecting in a few days it sunk in.

He had researched human aging once, not because he cared or any deeper reason. He was just curious. He read that getting older, for some people, implied changes in their sleep routine. After that, he started noticing how tired you were often, the black circles underneath your eyes.

Ever since that day, he found himself thinking of Lilith, death, and mortality. Why? There wasn't any real reason, but just something in his heart that made him remember of how long ago his time at the Celestial Realm was every time he looked at you.

Ever since that, Belphie makes sure you go to bed at a reasonable hour, and even uses just a little of his demon powers to make sure you get enough sleep, and if sometimes he stayed awake just to look at you sleep... well that was for him to know and for you to never find out.

Next, was Lucifer. You both had fallen into a kind of routine; you would help him organize papers and such, nothing too important, just to help him around with minor stuff. Today was one of those days. He was looking at some papers and he gave you the ones that weren’t so important to either categorize or to dispose of. He lifted his gaze from the papers for just one second and noticed that something was off. The scene before him… it wasn't quite right. Maybe it was the fact that you had been looking at the same paper for 4 minutes trying to figure out where it belongs, or how your figure seemed... smaller for some reason.

As he stared at you, he suddenly remembered something. The Exchange Program you had participated in ended a while ago, but you had chosen to stay with them. He tied the knots by figuring that, yes, some time had passed since then and it was normal you didn't look the same. So, he kept reading a paper but then realization hit him…. the exchange program ended more than 15 years ago.

It cut him like a knife. It felt like yesterday you had just gotten into the Devildom and now... it had been more than 15 years. For him, it felt like nothing, but for you, a mere human, it must feel like a lifetime ago. Lucifer put the paper down, and suggested you two went out for dinner that night.

You found it odd, but not unwelcomed, and if this started to become a habit between the two... well you sure were not going to question it.

Then, it was Satan the one who noticed. You were reading with him, when he saw you struggling to read some words. You kept shuffling the book closer and then further from you, making weird faces and sighing in frustration. He put it down as you not being particularly interested in that book. So he suggested that the two of you took a break and watched the new episode of a detective show they were airing.

However, it kept happening every time you read together. So, one day Satan surprised you with a trip to the human world… but for medical reasons, he took you to an oculist. While waiting for you, he was reading a book, and he saw an old person walk by him. He then looked at the book and the first word his eyes saw hurt him.

Death

He read around thousands of books explaining humans. From the way their minds worked on a psychological and biological way, to the way a human’s body rotted after dead. Quite fascinating, but the thought of that happening to you... made him land from his fantasyland. Once you came out you, to no one's surprise, announced that you needed reading glasses, he only smiled and told you to pick whatever style you preferred. As you looked around and asked for his opinion on the glasses, Satan noticed another thing.

Even if you were getting older, your spirit was still the same. And that made him smile genuinely. Afterwards, he seemed to be more and more interested in your health and stuff like that, you really didn't question it, your memory was already bad, so it was not bad to have someone remind you to take your vitamins.

Beelzelbub has been sneaking into the kitchen every night of his long life. But specifically, tonight he sneaked into the kitchen and found you, bent over the counter with just a glass of water. He smiled and asked if you were also hungry, but you shook your head, explaining that the dinner you had eaten earlier made your stomach ache and you just wanted some water.

Beelzelbub stared in confusion, after all it was not often food made him feel ill. But lately, this has been something that happened to you a lot. He figured his midnight snack could wait and gave you a hug, hoping it will make you feel better. You smiled and hugged him back, resting against him.

You felt... tired and it wasn't because it was almost midnight or because you had a tummy ache... no, it was a different type of tiredness. After a while, you smiled at Beel and went back to your room. Beel staid in the kitchen, not eating but thinking. He was worried about you; Lucifer mentioned the other day a little off of hand that you seemed weaker.

Beel didn't pay much attention to it, until now. His mind went from Lilith to you, how that affected him, and suddenly, the answer was clear. Beel slumped in himself and tried hard not to wake anyone up on the way to his room. Ever since that day, he asked you to work out with him, even for just a little bit, and the intense cuddling sessions were now even more intense.

The truth was he was scared of losing you too. Only Belphie knew that, and he planned to keep it like that. And if the nightmares ever shifted from Lilith to you well... at least he had you to hold his hand... for now.

It was 3 am... and if Belphegor knew you were awake at this unholy hour he might kill Leviathan and never let you sleep alone in your room again. But here you were, Levi had told you he would be binging one of his favorite animes all night, and you just had to watch it with him. So there you were, 3 am and both, you and Levi, watching anime.

Levi was all excited about the story, the characters, and the plot but you... not so much. So, you ended up falling asleep. Once Levi noticed, he muttered something about how your normie blood had taken the better of you, before falling silent as he kept watching the anime. There, right in the middle of the screen, the protagonist best friend had been killed. Blood was everywhere and the episode ended. Levi's eyes fell on you.

You were Levi's only friend, and the thought of losing a friend made him break a bit. He’s been noticing how you have changed in the passing of time, but he never actually stopped to think of the implications of that. Humans die, very, very easily. He wasn't certain on how much longer you would be around to spend time with him, do cosplays, and talk about anime or manga. He was going to be as lonely as the Lord of the Shadows was before Henry became their friend.

Leave his room? He never did such thing. At least not for a few days after that realization hit him... but then he realized that he was wasting SO MUCH TIME. So, after that, wherever you were, Levi was. He started to talk more about your own interests and stuff. It was nice, he learned new stuff about you, and while the thought of losing you always lingered in the back of his head, he wanted to be close to you no matter what.

Now Levi spent less than 4 hours in his room during the day, it was a miracle really... that was something absolutely no one has ever done before. And honestly, you were not going to question it.

Finally, Mammon, THE Great Mammon noticed. You two were walking in town after one of his photoshoots. He was going on and on about how amazing he was while you trailed behind him... really behind him. Once he noticed, he slowed his pace to match yours. You started talking about something else entirely when suddenly your D.D.D rang. While you answered he checked the hour, and upon looking at his background, he felt a part of himself die.

As his background, he had set a picture of you and him. Not taken too long ago, just a few years... or so he thought. You looked so different. Your hair was now entirely white, matching his; he noticed the wrinkles around your face and the glasses that you now had to use all the time. Mammon fell silent. You informed him that Lucifer had called and wanted you two home now. He just nodded and didn’t say a word for the rest of the walk. You found it weird because... well, because it's Mammon, but you didn't mention it.

That night, Mammon didn't go to your room. He stayed in his, thinking about everything. Thinking how he didn’t notice that you were growing old. He was always with you, ALWAYS. It was impossible for HIM to not notice. Yet here he was, wondering how time slipped between his fingers, and now who knows how much time you would spend together. Mammon cried... all night, no one knew because he made sure it was a silent cry... but the idea of losing someone he cared about so much. IT hurt when Lucifer confiscated Goldie, and he knew losing you would feel the same... who was he kidding? It was going to be worse, so much worse. And so, he cried, but only for that night, the next day he was his usual self just... now he was aware. Suddenly he was being super kind to you and buying you stuff.

It weirded you out but it was fine, you let him have it... you knew what it was about. You started at him with a smile on your lips, ruffled his hair and made snarky comment about him already being broke and to stop spending in you.

If Mammon never left your side before just imagine now. And he was not the only one. You were constantly followed around by a group of demons that wanted to spend time with you. You knew why, but you never mention it... why would you?

Mammon and the others had never talked about it, they refused to do so but whenever you didn't look, they looked at each other, and with sad expression, they made sure to take in the moment, to save it in their hearts.

It was night. You and the seven brothers have been having a horror night but you were tired already. Your entire body ached. And halfway through the movie you fell asleep.

You woke up by a hand shaking you, once you opened your eyes you saw Lucifer. You smiled at him, sat up, and, to everyone surprise, hugged him. Blame it on your half-asleep state, but you dared to hug him, and even give him a kiss on the cheek. Then proceed to hug and kiss every other brother.

No one knew what had gotten into you, but once you kissed Belphegor and were about to say good night, Beel and Asmo pulled you into another hug, and before you realized, you were in a cuddle mountain with ALL the brothers. Lucifer may have taken a little convincing but at the end, he joined you all. After an intense two hours of cuddling, you went to your room. As you laid down in the bed with a smile plastered on your lips, you felt... at peace. With how your life had been up to this point, with how much you loved those seven idiots. Yeah, you really loved them.

During breakfast the next day, none of the brother ate. Not even Beelzeebub, they all waited patiently for you, they wanted to wait for you, even though... all of them knew you were not going to come down the stairs.

That's how it was, humans are born and humans die in less time than any other creature. It was the sad reality of their world, and as the brothers waited for a human that was never going to come down the stairs, all they could think about was you. It was sad, but it was true. And even if they were never going to see you, again... they really were grateful for everything.

*********************************

Hello sweeties, this is actually the first fan fic I've ever made. I could not get this idea out of my head so I just had to write it. Hope y'all enjoy it!

[lemonadebloodsworld]

Tw: ED (??), sh, depression, suicidal thoughts, abuse (??)

So yeah,

It feels weird to come back here even if it's a more recent account. The first time I made a tumblr account was when I was 13 and back then I was already really depressed because of trauma, my relationship with my parents and the fact that they were always saying that I faked being depressed and was just being dramatic and other shitty stuff.

Back then they thought I was a gay girl too but yeah I'm a bi trans boy and it makes everything so damn harder because everytime I try to talk about my mental health my mom just says that it's JUST because I'm trans and I should just be patient and wait to be 18 to start a transition while yes, dysphoria and the fact that my family isn't really supportive make me sad but my mental health has been getting so damn bad.

I've never really been a happy child, my parents divorced when I was 3-4, my mom found my stepdad who has always been an asshole to me and my little brother because we are not his "real" kids and would always yell at us and hit my brother and my mom has always been depressive and mentally ill (Ed, depression and trauma) so she is scared of him ig, anyways, she just never said anything about it, even when she noticed that we were really scared of him.

My bio father was supposed to take us at his place every weekend but after a year he stopped coming and dissappeared for 9 years. At the same time I started to get bullied at school by older kids and some kids in my class and I didn't have any friends because it was a shame for them to be friend with me.

At 11, I have been sexually assaulted by an older kid (he was 15 or something) leaving me with trauma.

At 12 I changed school and found friends, I was so unused to it and ashamed of my past that I spent my time lying to them so they'll like me and think I'm cool, I also started to smoke and drink in secret because I felt so much pain and the intrusive thoughts started to get loud.

At 13 my bio dad came back in my life because he owed a lot of money to my mom and wanted to use us to make my mom feel bad about it. I started self-harming lightly and depression started to settle in but I wasn't really understanding what was going on because the "hypomanic" phases and intrusive thoughts were getting more present causing me to lose the only friends I had and yeah I just didn't understand what the hell was going on. I tried to talk about my mental health to my parents but they told me that I was being dramatic and it's a normal thing to feel bad because I was an adolescent and questioning my identity (I came out as a lesbian back at this time) and decided to just punish me and take my phone away because I was spending too much time alone in my room and didn't do the chores.

At 14 I started to have a lot of anxiety and panic attacks while being in depressive episodes, I started an ed (feeling shameful for eating even a little amount of anything and purging, I don't want to give it any name because I have been diagnosed and yeah), I also began to self-harm more and deeper (still not bad, I don't want to lie for that type of stuff xd), I broke down one day and told everything to my parents (sh, depressive tendencies, smoke, suicidal thoughts etc) and once again they were like "yeah nah it can't be that bad, you just lie to have attention and have an excuse to stay in your room and just being stupid" but my mom saw my arms and thights and then was okay for me to go see a psychologist. So for a year I had the opportunity to talk with a professional who was really amazing, she prescribed me light sleep pills because of my insomnia while in depressive episodes and "hypomanic" (don't have a diagnosis but I have all the symptoms but then again I don't want to self diagnose because it could be wrong and be something else) ones but my mom always refused to give them to me. At the end of the year she wanted an appointment with my mom to talk about my mental health and the importance for me to go see a therapist to be diagnosed (bipolar disorder 2 (she was still questioning it) , anxiety disorder and depression or whatever, she just wanted me to have the help I needed) but then again my mom said no because I was surely just faking it all and I just had to make efforts to be happy. I was so tired of everything and just wanted to feel better so I started to steal my mom depression medication (mostly Xanax and calming pills).

At 15 I met my first serious girlfriend, I fell in love so hard with her and for the first month she really helped me to stop sh, pills, drinking and everything was great until she started to verbally abuse me using my dysphoria and fragile subjects I told her about (she would say that I'm annoying and selfish for always feeling bad and that u was too sensitive and not a real boy if I cried) once I wasn't agreeing with her, slap and hit me if I said something she wasn't okay with or when I would have anxiety attacks or talk to her about my suicidal thoughts while in depressive episodes and yeah she used me like if I was a dog, if she wanted something or think in some way I would have to give her or do whatever she wanted or I would get threatened, insulted or ignored for a long time or other icky stuff. After 6 months of making me feel guilty for not letting her touch me in a sexual way she one day decided to start taking advantage of me while I wasn't in the appropriate head space or without my consent and then making fun of my body and making comments about the way I look. She in fact, made me really anxious and feel bad and it made me start to binge eat, at the end of the year my weight was 78 kg, before our relationship I was 59 kg, people noticed it but just told me to stop eating and go on a diet.

At 17 (this year) I finally broke up even if she asked me to do it because she didn't want to be seen as the mean one for letting me while I was clearly depressed. It was hard but I could finally meet new people or get back with people she didn't wanted me to talk to (especially my amazing actual partner and my bestfriend) who helped me a lot realizing all the shit she did to me and they have been amazing at making me feel loved and cared for and to be honest I don't think I would be there if they weren't in my life right now.

Now my mental health is just fucked. Like I said when I broke up with my abusive ex I had gained almost 20 kg and it reminded me all the bully I've been through as a kid (they most of the time used the fact I was overweight to bully me) so I started to starve myself or purge if I felt like I ate too much (I started to count calories) I was at 78 kg at the start and in 2 weeks I was at 65kg, it was during quarantine so i didn't have any friend or people noticing what I was doing or see me fainting. I started to drink almost everyday and smoke a lot.

In June I got in a relationship with my actual partner and to be honest it's the only good point I can find this year. They (genderfluid) are an angel and I just don't know what I would do without them, they help me a lot even if they are struggling with mental illness themself and anyone has ever cared for me and made me feel so loved before. Today it's been 4 months officially and it makes me feel happy and I just want it to never stop. My mental health is at its worst, I've been having a lot of intrusive thoughts, i have a self destructive comportement, in September I started to sh again (a lot deeper) after 2 years clean, I often call them in the middle of the night (well in the middle of the day for them cause I'm in Belgium and they are in Texas) because of really bad dreams and suicidal thoughts, I am bullied and made fun of by the people in my class for being trans and having a different style (alt-grunge), I barely eat or purge if I try to have a meal, I have these "hypomanic" phases that make me getting really angry at nothing and do a lot of stupid shit because I feel invincible and better than anyone, almost godly and yet they never made me feel like I was a burden or like I should just stfu or like I was being dramatic and they are actually the first person believing me and not saying I fake everything.

I am struggling and it becomes so damn hard to live but I will do my best not to give up and just keep on fighting for them and maybe try to recover and seek for help when I turn 18. I already try to make little steps and stop self harming, drinking too much energy drink XDD so yeah let's just try and be positive I guess.

Sorry its actually so damn long hhh I don't even know if i will post It one day or keep it as a draft eheh I hate venting

[spideyspence]

i swear you’re here; peter parker

peter parker x reader

summary: It’s nice having Peter with her when she wakes up in the morning. He’s been so much closer to her after he went to space, much clingier. He sleeps over a lot more, but she doesn’t go over to his and May’s place for dinner every Friday night like she once did. She’s unsure of why her mum hasn’t commented on Peter staying at theirs at much as he does.Y/N doesn’t have an issue with Peter being with her as much as he is, until she finds out why.

warnings: this is very sad im sorry, hallucinating, mentally ill!reader (but there’s no diagnosis)

A/N: this is is set after infinity war but before endgame so y’all can guess what’s happening right?

i have come to love this fic so much because it was a support through some of the tougher times with my mental health since the start of april, so this fic is my baby

tagged: @hey-its-grey (thanks for dealing with my rants about this fic), @poetrypeter, @hollandroos, @kiwispideys, @plushparker, @naturallytom

my masterlist

the playlist

-

Y/N walked into the train carriage with her best friend and boyfriend, Peter Parker. The train was packed as it usually was at 3:30 after school, so the two lovebirds stood and held onto one another, trusting each other to not fall.

Earphones were plugged into her phone and extended out with one earbud in Y/N’s ear and one in Peter’s. Some kind of alternative music was playing that could be heard due to the set volume, but they both still talked to one another, electric guitar playing in the background.

They maintained eye contact throughout the train ride back to Y/N’s apartment. When they first started dating, eye contact was hard for the both of them, but they both found out later on that while talking, the eye contact meant everything to them (they’d also be cheesy and would always say that they would ‘get lost in each other’s eyes’ and their friend MJ would gag every time). They denied it, but many of their friends labelled them as a cheesy couple.

After a thorough conversation about a new episode of a cartoon the two recently had become obsessed with and had binge watched over the weekend, the train came to their stop and they both hopped off.

The walk back to Y/N’s home included hand holding and more alternative music but at a lower volume this time. The streets of Queens weren’t as loud as the train was, especially on this sunnier afternoon.

Peter was always staying at Y/N’s place after school. He would come over and study with her and they’d go out for dinner some nights. One particularly warm night, they walked around the city as the sun was setting and buy some street food they would find. Any nights that Y/N would end up being a little bit clingier, Peter would be happy to stay the night.

It was like everything was going Y/N’s way, but she didn’t question it.

Her usual school routine was waking up in the morning, Peter would grab his own breakfast while Y/N got changed and then she would grab hers as her boyfriend got changed. They always brushed their teeth together as they looked at one another at the mirror and danced around listening to some of Peter’s playlists. They’d catch the train together and they’d go to their classes together.

Ned and MJ were different though. Y/N sat with them at lunch, but they didn’t really talk much. Y/N wanted to know why there was always silence between the four of them for nothing had changed. Ned and MJ still sat on the seats opposite Peter and Y/N in the cafeteria. It wasn’t like any of them had died in the snap.

Y/N knew about the real Stark internship. She was always worried about what would happen to Peter when he went out on patrol. She feared him coming to her room with some horrible wound or him not coming back at all. At the same time however, she knew that this is what Peter wanted. He loved helping others and even though he was putting his life at risk, he felt good about how he was helping the city he lived in. (Also, he had a great relationship with Tony Stark and Y/N loved hearing Peter talk about Tony and what they worked on with his suit).

She was scared when she turned around in the city, seeing people turning to dust around her. She called Ned and MJ to make sure that they were okay, but Peter wasn’t answering her calls. She feared that he may have turned to dust, and she couldn’t handle that thought. She couldn’t bear to think of a life without Peter by her side. So, when she returned home that afternoon to see Peter lying on her bed, doing his chemistry homework and his endearing smile appearing on his face when he noticed her come into her room, she knew everything was going to be alright.

Later that night however, when her Mum returned home with the news that her father was one of the victims of the snap, she held her face in her hands as she sobbed and ran back to her room. Peter had whispered to her that he had heard the news through the wall, as he hugged her as Y/N wept on her bed all night long.

-

There were quiet whispers shared among the two teens sitting in their chemistry class. They were writing some new equations that they had just learnt as the bell rang. It was their last class for the day and like usual, the two packed their school bags and caught the train back to Y/N’s home.

They opened up their chemistry textbooks and notebooks to do the rest of their work and Y/N was confused at one moment, so Peter helped her out.

‘Babe, you’ve forgotten to balance the equation here, that’s why you aren’t getting the right answer. See with phosphorus, you’ve got it written as seven when it should be 3.’ Peter explained.

‘Thanks Pete,’ she smiled as Peter went back to doing the rest of his work.

‘I love you.’

‘I love you too Y/N. I’ll love you for as long as I live.’ The brown-haired boy smiled.

She laughed as she leant in and gave her boyfriend a kiss on the cheek and they went back to their homework.

-

Y/N’s mother came home from work and said to Y/N that she needed to go see someone about her father’s death. Her mother wanted her to talk about how she was feeling because she wasn’t talking about his death all that much.

Y/N was confused because she did talk openly about it to her mother. She had grieved and she still missed her father, she always would but she didn’t understand. She grieved every night for a month but now she thinks of her father daily, and she hopes that he would continue to be proud of her.

She ate dinner with her mother as Peter went back to his and had his dinner with his Aunt. They weren’t going to hang out tonight because Y/N was tired, and she wanted to do some reading for English that night and wanted to read some of her own novels.

She wanted some downtime to herself, which she always valued a lot.

Before her appointment with the counsellor, she didn’t realise how much ‘downtime to herself’ she would have after the session.

-

Her first class was English for the day. Writing notes on the themes of the novel, colour coordinating. Peter and Y/N didn’t have the same English class, but it was nice to have some distance while at school.

Class felt like it went on forever, but when it ended, she walked to her locker and had planned to go to library for her spare periods to study. Peter also had spares at the same time and on these particular days they would go out for lunch. Some days it was a pizza, some days it was going to Delmar’s Deli-Grocery where Peter and Y/N played with the cat that sat on the counter until their sandwiches were done.

Y/N wasn’t looking forward to her appointment with her councillor. She hadn’t seen her in a few months. She saw her after the snap when her father had passed and if it wasn’t for her councillor, she wouldn’t know what kind of mental state she would be in currently.

Peter and Y/N studied together, Y/N writing a few more notes for her English and Peter studying for his Spanish test the next period (classic Peter style).

They then walked through the streets of NYC, making their way to Delmar’s that day. Peter and Y/N were ordering separately that day. They petted Murph as they were waiting and sipped their soft drinks.

When they returned back to school, Peter went off to his Spanish class and Y/N wished him good luck with a kiss on his cheek and he walked off down the corridor, the sun coming in through the windows in front of him.

-

Peter had told Y/N earlier on that day that he was leaving straight after school to help May with something, so she didn’t need to wait up after class.

It worked well for Y/N because she needed to go to the appointment which was about an hour later after school finished.

Prior to their appointment, she browsed her favourite second hand book shop and managed to find a really nice edition of her favourite book, and also a cool looking comic that she knew Peter didn’t have. She’d give her boyfriend the comic next day at school.

Y/N then walked a couple more blocks until she was standing outside the councillor’s door and she was nervous. She would have liked to have Peter holding her hand in this moment to calm her nerves.

She didn’t understand why she had to talk to someone right now. Y/N was doing well in school and her mental health was fine. She didn’t need a check-up.

But her mum thought otherwise.

-

Y/N sat on the couch while her councillor asked her how she was. She told her that she didn’t understand why she had to be sitting there. Y/N was alright. She hadn’t had a panic attack in couple of months, so things weren’t adding up.

‘Well, your mum called, and she told me to discuss with you a few things that are concerning her.’

So, she asked some of the usual questions. How she felt about her Dad and his death. Of course, Y/N still missed her father and her heart still hurt but at least her heart rate didn’t increase at any mention of him anymore. She had become stronger and moved on, just like her dad would have wanted her to.

Then she asked Y/N about Peter.

‘What? Peter, my boyfriend? Yeah, he’s doing well. We’ve been studying together lately but since the whole ‘half the world dying’ thing, he has been a bit more clingy than usual, but nothing has really changed.’ She rambled.

‘What does Peter have to do with this anyway?’ She questioned, confused on why the person opposite her, who knew so much about her would be asking about her boyfriend.

What direction was this conversation taking?

‘See, your mum wanted me to talk to you about Peter.’ The councillor smiled softly.

‘Okay look, if she’s wanting to say that we need to spend more time apart, why she would ask you to talk to me about it?’ Y/N asked with a puzzled face, but a small laugh to cover up her nervousness.

Her councillor laughed but their face then turned into a frown.

‘Peter didn’t survive the snap.’

Y/N knew she didn’t hear that sentence right.

‘Sorry?’

‘Peter died in the snap. He was one of the victims. He isn’t with us anymore.’ Her councillor said softly, cautiously.

‘Okay you see, that isn’t true. He helped me out with my chemistry homework a couple of nights ago!’ She stood up, infuriated that someone was telling her that her own boyfriend was dead, even though she saw him walk into his Spanish class for his test only a couple of hours prior.

Y/N started to feel the familiar tightness in her chest that she hadn’t felt for months. Her heart rate increased. Her councillor’s voice sounded like a dull, echoey sound in the back of her mind but she couldn’t hear it over the thudding of her heart. Y/N could hear someone calling out her name, but she didn’t feel like she was in the moment.

She looked at her councillor dead in the eyes and said ‘no’ as she walked out of the room, blinded by tears.

Now it wasn’t her smartest idea to walk blindly through New York at one of its busiest times, but Y/N jumped on the train and headed home. She wiped her tears away as her councillor’s words swam through her mind. She hit shuffle on her music to hopefully take her mind off everything only for the song to play was one that Peter had recommended to her.

‘You have to listen to this artist they’re so good Y/N’ Peter smiled. He had her computer sitting on his lap as he went through her Spotify. He had created a playlist called ‘peter p’s recs’ because he thought it was cool and Y/N needed a ‘music education’. He had chosen a silly photo of him that was on her computer as the photo for the playlist.

She looked at that playlist now, realising that it hadn’t been touched in months. She didn’t want to believe it, but she needed to find out herself.

She felt her tears return as she hopped of the train and headed to the direction of Peter and May’s apartment.

She walked up the stairs, headphones no longer playing music, just listening to her unsteady breath as she looked at the door she hadn’t seen in so long.

Y/N was debating on walking away and not dealing with the situation that was arising, but before she could stop herself, she had knocked three times on the door.

Moments later the door opened, and a familiar face appeared.

‘Hi Y/N, how are you? I haven’t seen you in so long’ May said to her but her smile quickly disappeared when she saw the tears in Y/N’s eyes.

‘Is he here? Or have I just been imagining all this time that Peter is still next to me and that we’ve gone to grab lunch together only for the reality to be that I go to Delmar’s alone?’ She sobbed.

May opened her arms and Y/N fell forward into her embrace and the teenage girl cried.

‘I don’t want it to be real but now I can see that everything is pointed towards him not being here. I haven’t seen you in so long which is completely out of the ordinary, I don’t see Spider-Man on the news anymore, but Peter wouldn’t want to fight after everything, I know that, but MJ and Ned don’t even talk about Peter anymore. It’s just silence.’ She ranted.

‘He can’t be dead because he held me. He held me when I cried for my Dad to come back when he died. He was there. I could feel him.’ She said, tears falling from her eyes as May was at the bench, making the two of them cups of tea.

May had sent Y/N’s mother a text saying that her daughter was over at hers and that she was safe, she just needed to talk. It was a part of the female guardian code.

Y/N heard the door open and she heard the keys being placed on the small table by the door.

‘Hey babe, I didn’t realise you were gonna be over.’ Peter smiled at Y/N but just like his aunt, his smile faltered when he saw her red eyes.

‘What’s wrong honey?’ Peter asked, worried.

That’s when she turned to May.

‘Can’t you-? He’s right there.’ Y/N pointed to the chair opposite her at the table and she looked at May. She shook her head as she placed the two mugs down on the table.

‘May please, he’s right there. Can’t you see him? He’s there okay. He helped me with my chemistry homework okay. He’s alive.’

‘Y/N, he’s not here.’

She looked back to where Peter was standing, except he wasn’t there anymore. Her eyes widened as her boyfriend disappeared.

‘Pete? Peter? Where’d you go?’ She called. She could hear the panic set into her voice.

She felt arms wrap around her and she cried into Aunt May’s chest.

‘He was telling me jokes in class and- and-’ Y/N hiccupped.

Peter was now gone, and Y/N had finally come to terms with it, and she let out all the pain.

She fell onto the floor, wailing loudly. The pain, it was unbearable. It was scorching hot but ice cold at the same time. It was nothing but everything at once.

May helped her up and guided her towards Peter’s bedroom. May knew that Y/N needed to rest and was unsure whether sleeping on Peter’s bed would be good for her or not, but it was the best and easiest place for she to stay for tonight.

May again, let Y/N’s mum know that she was staying over because she was in no position to go home but to let the school know that she wasn’t going to be at school the next day and to pick her up late morning.

Peter’s scent filled her nose when she entered her dead boyfriend’s room. Everything was left the exact same, nothing had changed.

She fell onto Peter’s bed in the corner of his room and cocooned herself in his cold blankets. She was wrapped in his scent and she knew that this was the last time she would feel whole in a long time. So, she fell asleep to try and numb the pain.

She hadn’t just lost her boyfriend, she was feeling the pain of losing her best friend and her mind.

-

'Cause I'm bringing you back to life And I know that you're gone, but I swear that you're here It's a feeling that won't disappear

[writerbyaccident]

Maybe some Yan Kirishima with a sickly s/o (maybe it’s a victim he saved doing pro hero work) who thinks negatively about herself. She tells him one night when they are sitting together out of everyone why did he pick someone like her. She doesn’t get it and she tells him she’s terrified one day he’ll wake up and leave her because she’s too much work because of her illness. It breaks his heart seeing her think this way.

A Chance Meeting (Yandere KirishimaxReader)

           Walking down the street, you barely glanced at the multitude of buildings and people that surrounded you. The route you were taking was far too familiar to you to warrant any sort of special attention, especially on such a miserable, rainy day. You hadn’t been able to find your umbrella that morning, and cursing the day for its premature annoyingness, you simply left home wearing a thin rain jacket. The cold rain seeped through your clothes, aggravating your already pained body. It hadn’t started out as a bad day, pain-wise, but your illness could react negatively to poor weather like this.

           As you continued walking forward though, you were pulled forcibly out of your thoughts. There was some kind of commotion up ahead, one that had caused a sizeable crowd to gather, thus blocking your path. Curious despite yourself, you tried to move a bit closer in order to see what exactly was going on. Before find a better view though, the cause of said commotion broke through the crowd, heading straight for you. He was a big, burly sort of man, and you tried to get out of his way, as he didn’t seem like he was going to slow down anytime soon. But with so many people trying to do the same thing, they blocked any possible avenue of escape. You clenched your teeth, trying to brace for the impact, when someone else suddenly leapt in front of you.

           When the man saw who had stepped in front of you, he tried desperately to stop moving forward. But his momentum was far too strong, and you flinched as he hit your mysterious protector. To your surprise though, the man in front of you didn’t move an inch. Instead, it was the other man who was thrown to the ground. Once he had fallen, a pro hero and a police officer moved towards him, restraining him quickly. You watched in shock, finally able to piece together what had been going on. The man who charged at you must have been a criminal of some sort. And that meant that the man who moved to protect you was most likely a hero.

           Speaking of which, the man turned to face you. Your instinct had been correct, it was a hero who had helped you. More specifically, it was Red Riot, a popular hero who was around your age. You weren’t exactly a rabid fan of his, but you still felt yourself blush at his gaze. His smile and eyes were bright, and his thickly muscled body didn’t help the flustered feeling that you were currently experiencing. He didn’t seem to notice though, instead continuing to examine you closely. If anyone had asked, he would have said that he was simply checking to make sure that you were all right. But in reality, Kirishima was feeling at least as flustered as you. When he moved to block the villain rushing towards you, he hadn’t even really glanced at you first. But now that he saw you, he felt a sudden breathlessness overtake him that had nothing to do with the fight that had just taken place. A torrent of emotions flooded him, leaving him with the powerful conviction that this meeting was destiny.

           “Hi!” he exclaimed cheerfully. “Are you okay? Do you need a doctor?”

           “Um,” you started nervously, trying to ignore the strain this occurrence had put on your body, “I’m okay, I think.”

           “Are you sure?”

           “Yeah. Thanks so much for saving me, I don’t know what I would have done.”

           “Aw, well, it’s no big deal,” Kirishima insisted, now blushing as well. “It’s what heroes do, right?” You smiled at his sweet response, making him feel as though he had suddenly been thrown up into the air, leaving him weightless. He was silent for a moment, but then realized that if he didn’t make his move soon, you might just leave his life forever. He couldn’t let that happen, so he forced himself to speak again.

           “I’m glad that you’re okay, but in case you’re not,” he said, reaching for the phone in your hand, “how about we exchange numbers?” In disbelief, you handed him your phone, watching as he typed in his number. Once he did, he gave you his phone, making sure that you added your number too.

           After that day, the two of you quickly grew close. Kirishima texted you constantly, not that you really minded. He was so sweet and friendly, always ready to cheer you up or just listen when you needed him to. And with every text you sent back to him, Kirishima fell more and more in love with you. He could hardly believe that there was a time when you weren’t a part of his life. Before long, you two started dating, your relationship moving quickly. Kirishima was determined to learn everything about you, wanting nothing more than to prove that he was the perfect boyfriend. So when you told him about your illness, he went on an enormous researching binge. Quickly becoming a self-taught expert on your condition, he took a special pride in taking care of you, on both good days and bad.

           Unfortunately, it was currently a bad day, one that the two of you were spending cuddling on the couch. Kirishima had brought over some of your favorite foods and was making sure that you stayed hydrated. Every time you were having a bad day, he was he insisted on dropping everything to take care of you, and he was always so sweet about it. He never got frustrated or tired of it, something you had a hard time believing. You knew from personal experience how much of a drag your illness could be and couldn’t see why someone would want to put themself through it when they didn’t have to. It was a question that had been plaguing you for some time now, and no matter how much you tried to ignore it, it pushed itself to the forefront of your mind, especially on days like this.

           “Eijiro?” you said softly.

           “Yeah?” he responded, perking up at the possibility that he could help you with something.

           “Do you ever want to leave me?”

           “What? Of course not! Why would you ask something like that?”

           “It’s just, I know it can be tough, dealing with all of this. And you’re a pro hero, you could have any girl in the country. I’m just afraid that one day you’re gonna wake up and realize that I’m not worth it.” With each word that you spoke, Kirishima felt his heart break a little more. He felt so ashamed, did he really not make it clear how much he loved you?

           “I would never do that. I love you so much, I could never leave you. Helping you through your illness, taking care of you, is my favorite thing to do. I’d do anything to make you happy, anything to make you feel loved. I know that other people might have abandoned you, but I could never do that to you. You’re my whole life.” You smiled gently at his words, comforted by their presence. But a part of Kirishima was still terrified that you didn’t believe him. It was clear to him that he needed to prove his love to you, but how? After thinking it over for a little while, he had a revelation. You were scared that he would leave you some day, so what if he brought you home with him? He could keep you safe there, make sure that no one ever hurt you again.

[ascuteasadolly]

Dear Parents,

I know you’ll never see this, but I still have to write this to you. I started having trouble with eating when I was super young. Do you remember when I was maybe five and hiding behind my bed with candy? Hiding the wrappers under my bed? I do. It haunts me every day, thinking I could actually be skinny if it wasn’t for my mistakes as a child. I blame myself for being fat. Ugly. Disgusting. I blame that little five year old girl for eating her feelings, instead of saying something to anybody. 

But, I felt alone even though everybody around me assured me my life was perfect and that I had a million people there for me. Did you know I used to look at my bratz dolls and think “Why don’t I look like that?” I would feel so bad and eat more because nobody looked at me. Nobody saw the sadness in my face as a nine year girl looking at her bratz doll. No, all the attention went somewhere else and I hate that. 

You know what’s worse? I shouldn’t blame a five year old for eating her feelings, or a nine year who ate because of depression. I have been depressed since I was little, I wasn’t like other kids. I didn’t want to go outside; I hated playing outdoors or doing sports. I just wanted to stay in all day and do nothing. That’s not normal for little girls. What you saw from it was that I was lazy, lazy, not depressed.

You probably didn’t even believe in depression or even anxiety back then, which I had both. I still have it. Now that you know these things are real and I am restrained by it every day. All you say is “try harder”, “lose weight”, or the worst “Don’t let it get to you.” I over eat because I am scared to lose the weight, because maybe you still won’t see me. Maybe you’ll go back to ignoring me when I am far from okay. I am constantly breaking inside. Sometimes I wish death would just take me. I would be released from any obligations, responsibilities, or expectations.

Mom, when you saw the cuts on my arms in middle school. You got angry with me; you weren’t concerned about how I was doing. You were mad that Aunty saw it first. It made you look bad. You should have looked at me and said honey I love you and I need to know why you felt that you had to mutilate your own body. Not ask if I did this for attention. Because, even if I did, going to those lengths just to get your attention is insane. I know I did do it for attention at first, but then it felt like it helped. I hurt myself because I felt like I deserved it. I still think I deserve to hurt myself but I try not to now.

Dad, I am so sorry you are always in the dark. You know nothing of what I’ve gone through. The abusive boyfriend. Sierra college in general. The nights you were so drunk you didn’t remember the things you said to me. How my sister would torment me as a kid. How my brother would disapprove anything I did or said when I was younger. I’m so glad and proud you don’t get drunk like that anymore and you act like the dad I know now. Sadly mom and I kept all of this from you and I don’t know why. I’m so sorry.

When I left for college, I had been developing an eating disorder, bulimia. The first time I ever purged was the night dad and I got Judy’s Grinder, burger and fries with a shake. I panicked so much that I grabbed this tea that made me ill every time I drank it. I made a mug and chugged it. Almost immediately I started throwing up. I made sure it was all gone and out of my system. I started crying because I never thought I would become one of those girls and even if I did, I certainly did not imagine that I would be fat and doing it. I thought eating disorders were reserved for skinny, pretty girls.

The next time I vividly remember, was at a family get together. I had four slices of veggie pizza and made myself puke in your bathroom where nobody would hear me. My cousin and I apparently had the same idea. She got out of the bathroom in the back of the house. We both knew what we had done and nobody else asked why we went to the bathroom immediately after eating. I almost felt proud of myself until I saw that she had done the same thing as me. Then I felt concern for her and guilty for being a hypocrite. 

So, when I got to Coeur D’Alene I was purging a lot of my food. But then my roommate noticed, so I blamed our suite mates. I had to stop purging at least when she was there. So then I would stop eating. I would go anywhere from 8 hours to 48 hours of not eating. Then I would be so hungry I would binge, I would binge A LOT. I wouldn’t be able to get rid of the food because my roommate was there and I would be damned if I was going to be caught before I even got skinny. By the end of that semester I had also developed anorexic tendencies.

Now that I am home and told you I can’t try to lose weight anymore. You are constantly telling me to eat certain things and to slow down on carbs. That I HAVE to eat dinner with you guys every night. Of course those dinners are “healthy” and “good for me”. I already feel like running, trying to find a way to get away from you guys. This is ridiculous because I love you two to death. But my eating disorder, anxiety, and depression are not just going to go away if I try harder. If anything they just get worse. I wish you understood how this affected me. It’s hard to understand when you don’t have it yourself, I get that. But being sympathetic would have changed my life for the better. If only I knew then what I know now, I could have ended up being way better off.

I blame myself. I blame that five year old girl who felt so alone. I blame the nine year old who was ashamed of her body. I blame them because they are me. I am not trying to make you the bad guy or blame you for being overweight or having all these problems. I am TRYING to get you to see me. I am showing you that I am not okay. I have never been okay. But I want to be, I just don’t know how. I need things to change to get better, to feel like I can lose weight in a healthy way, to feel like I can get up in the morning, and to not have panic attacks about every single thing. We just have to work together.

Sincerely,

Your apologetic daughter

Dolly

[xxx-cat-xxx]

Devils and Dust

“He´s been going down for so long that he´s starting to yearn for the moment he´ll finally crash. But not tonight. It´s the Friday after Peter´s birthday, and Tony owes him a grand party at the very least, after all he´s made the kid go through.”

Steve witnesses a feverish Tony falling apart after Pepper has left. This is set in an AU where Civil War didn´t happen, where Cap and Iron Man haven´t known each other very long, and where Tony´s mental health is much much worse than shown in the movies. It´s somewhat longer than I intended it to be, and also darker than the stuff I usually write, but I was in the mood.

PTSD, angst, depression (maybe?), illness, emeto. Additional TW for alcohol overuse.

I've got my finger on the trigger And tonight faith just ain't enough When I look inside my heart There's just devils and dust

- BS

It´s been a quiet week and that´s exactly the problem. Tony has always been able to deal with pressure, with adrenaline-pitching situations, life-or-death decisions. It´s peaceful times like these that get to his bones, when the lack of distraction leaves him with numb and empty and feeling useless.

The flashbacks have been coming and going for the last few days, and it doesn´t help his fragile sense of reality that he´s caught a bug somewhere and is running a temperature. He´s so detached from the world that he might find it comical, wasn´t it for the bone-deep exhaustion, the pounding in his head and the sense of foreboding that´s been weighing down on him for weeks.

He´s been having trouble sleeping, the dreams turning more and more violent every time he tries. They leave him breathless and sobbing when he awakes in his too-large double bed, Pepper´s absence so overwhelming that it´s nearly tangible. She´s been away for a month, and he´s been going down for so long that he´s starting to yearn for the moment he´ll finally crash. But not tonight. It´s the Friday after Peter´s birthday, and Tony owes him a grand party at the very least, after all he´s made the kid go through. .

He´d shifted all appointments to have the day off for preparations, but owing to another sleepless night he was finished with everything at noon, leaving him wandering around his own empty tower, unable to come up with something worth doing. He´s lacking the motivation to even enter the lab and fix the pair of robots he broke during his latest week-long workshop binge, which would probably get him worried if he could spare any energy to care about it.

When it´s time for him to get ready, his hands are shaking hard enough that he´s having trouble fixing his tie.

“How do I look, Friday?” he prompts when he has finally managed to make himself presentable. Tony has neglected the AI recently, and he can practically hear her scowling when she replies.

“Dead tired and high on caffeine, Sir, so nothing out of the ordinary.”

“Yeah, that´ll do,” he mumbles to himself and startles when he hears the doorbell ring.

The security cameras inform him that the whole group has assembled at the front door, carrying a protesting Peter on their shoulders, throwing him into the air with shouts of Happy Birthday, Spiderman. The ease of the whole scene makes something in Tony´s chest ache with longing. He takes a last look into the mirror, draws a deep breath, and opens the door.

“Look who´s here! Underoos, isn´t it past your bedtime? You´re what, 14 years old now?”

The world presents itself through a haze, making it feel like he´s watching everything on a movie screen. He hugs Rhodey a few seconds longer than usual, prompting the older man to examine him with dark, concerned eyes.

“You okay, dude? You look...worn out.”

But if there´s something that Tony Stark has become an expert at, maybe even more so than at contriving genius inventions or saving the world, it´s pretending to be alright when he´s not. He´s made it through months of Palladium poisoning, so a touch of fever and anxiety feel like a walk in the park.

“I´m great, Rhodes,” he grins, “Whaddaya say, wanna try some cobweb brownies? Took me ages to find a shop that bakes them in this shape out of the Halloween season...”

He makes his way through the evening alright, joking, catching up, and avoiding anyone who might notice his sweating and the constant jittering of his hands, which means Nat, basically. She´s been watching him closely all the time, and he has no doubt that she has realized something´s off, just as she did when he was dying a few years ago. She doesn´t say anything, though, and neither does he.

The giant cake arrives, and Bruce recounts elaborately how he managed to convince Clint not to prank Peter by hiding a bunch of real spiders inside of it, and Tony laughs and claps his way through it all, smiling at the kid whenever he catches his eye. Pete looks so happy, and he deserves it. But Tony doesn´t. He hasn´t earned himself the right to be part of anything so good or pure. The piece of cake that´s forced into his hands nearly makes him gag.

Finally, most of the group settles on the various couches for a movie. The inevitable Star Trek versus Star Wars argument commences, and Tony zones out, exhausted, slightly nauseated, thinking how he only has to last a few more hours before he can drown himself in scotch and Heavy Metal. But then Peter elbows him back into the present, and there´s a black hole on the screen that´s swallowing a spaceship, and suddenly it all comes back at him without a warning.

He barely has time to bolt to the toilet before the cake comes up together with the memories. He feels disgusted at himself when a thick stream of vomit hits the bowl, but he can´t stop retching. He´s long past empty when dry heaves are still tearing him apart, making his whole body scream in pain.

The wormhole closes in from all sides and pulls him down, deeper than he ever was. He´s retching, then shivering, then hyperventilating, and then he feels like he is dying. And what scares him most is that he can´t bring himself to really mind it anymore. He rests his aching head on the rim of the toilet, finally succumbing to the horror film that´s playing in his mind.

----------

Steve has been having an unexpectedly good time. The restriction on hard alcohol that even Tony had agreed to because of Peter´s age means that the conversations are actually making sense even a few hours into the party. Peter´s constant happy chatter keeps everyone engaged, and whoever prepared the food has absolutely outdone themselves.

He doesn´t really catch the reason for everyone getting worked up about which of the sheer infinite list of silly alien-battle movies to play, nor the fun they seem to draw from watching things being blown up in outer space. But he goes along with the general mood and relaxes as good as he can. They are a twenty minutes into the movie when he feels the urge to use the bathroom and excuses himself.

When he opens the door to the floor´s common restroom, he is greeted by the sound of violent retching carrying over from one of the stalls.

“Hello?” he calls out hesitantly. “Do you need help?”

The answer is silence, and then what sounds like a suppressed sob. Steve is just about to leave - there are a few people at the party whom he doesn´t know closely, after all, and he doesn´t want to disturb - when the door of the stall opens. The man who staggers out, pale, trembling and wiping sick from his mouth, is the last he´d expected to see in such a state.

"Tony, what...?" is all he can say.

"I´m okay, Cap, just..." he trails off breathlessly and stumbles, apparently caught in a dizzy spell.

"Whoa, whoa, easy." Steve motions to hold the other man up when he sways on his feet.

"I´m okay, I´m okay, " Tony seems to say more to himself than to Steve, batting his hands away and leaning heavily against the basin.

“What happened, Tony? Did you drink?” Steve asks, trying not to sound disappointed.

“Always assuming the worst, Rogers, aren´t we?” he coughs. It´s meant to come out lightly, but Steve can hear the bitterness swinging along. “No, even I wouldn´t pull that one on the kid´s birthday.”

“Sorry...” Steve says. “But in my defense, your records aren´t exactly the best.”

“Just leave me alone, Cap.” Tony rebuts, sounding tired.

Steve examines his teammate´s appearance, and he is taken aback by how worn down Tony looks, almost old. He seems to be having trouble taking even breaths, and there´s an expression on his face that Steve would call afraid if he didn´t know better. Tony Stark might be a showman more times than not, but from all Steve knows, he is certainly not someone to be scared of things. Rather, what causes trouble is usually his lack of fear and respect in situations where such feelings would be appropriate.

But still, Tony looks...haunted. It reminds Steve of Bucky on his worst days. And then it dawns on him.

“Tony, I don´t want to interfere- ”

“Then don´t.”

“Did you have an anxiety attack? PTSD, flashbacks, something like that?”

Tony gives him an exasperated look. “Rogers, I´m serious, just do what you came here to do and then get lost.” He swallows hard, apparently fighting the nausea. “Okay, that came out rude, but what I´m trying to say is that it´s not the first time this happens. I can deal with it. Alone.”

For a moment Steve imagines Tony in the tower all by himself, shivering his way through panic attacks, and something pulls in his chest. He has heard of the break-up with Pepper, and he also knew about the PTSD, but he´d never had any idea that it gets this bad with Tony.

Still, the man is right, it´s better to leave if he is not wanted, and hovering will most likely only make things worse for Tony.

“Okay.”, he finally says. “But I´m here if you need...someone to talk, you know. Not only me, the whole team is there for you.”

There´s no conviction in his eyes when Tony fakes a smile. “Sure, capsicle. I know.”

----------

The party continues till late into the night. Cleaning up, which Steve commits to despite Tony´s insistence that he´s got robots to take care of it, takes even longer. By the time he is finished, most of the guests have either left or gone to sleep, so Steve decides to stay over as well. But once he is lying in his giant guest room´s ultrasoft twin bed, covered in smooth sheets of silk, he is entirely too comfortable to be comfortable.

When sleep doesn´t come, he starts walking the halls, searching for someone else who is still up. Most of the Avengers have trouble sleeping for one reason or another, and it wouldn´t be the first night he has run into Bruce killing time in front of the TV, Clint hitting the gym at 2 in the morning, or Nat just sitting in the darkness, silent, unmoving, practicing invisibility. 

He isn´t disappointed, but the sounds he hears when he enters the common area are not what he´d hoped for. Ragged breaths and curses carry over from the direction of the bar. Steve nearly steps into a heap of large ceramic shards lying on the ground, spotted with dots of blood. They appear to be remains of a mug that has the Iron Man mask plastered on it. Steve recalls seeing Tony gulping coffee from it several times, and he briefly wonders whether it was a gift from Pepper, but then discards the thought, bending to pick up the sherds.

“I was gonna trash it. But it just...broke”, a toneless voice mutters from behind the counter.

Tony is slumped on the ground, the bar barely holding him upright. He looks so much worse than earlier that Steve wonders for a moment whether he wound up in some sort of time-travel experiment and skipped a few days. His teammate is deathly pale, only his cheeks flushed red, the breathing shallow, sweaty curls plastered against his forehead. His suit jacket and tie are gone, the half-opened shirt is soiled by flecks of vomit and blood from where he must have cut himself on the shards. One of his hands is clutching his chest where the arc reactor used to be, the other crushing a bottle of something high-proof.

"God, Tony...” Steve exhales. The man is a mess. “It´s fine, I can fix the mug.” He knows it´s stupid the moment he says it.

“Doesn´ matter.” Tony slurs, his eyes glistening wet. “I don´t wannit. Won´t make anythin´ right.”

“Okay, okay,” Steve soothes. “Is there - is there anything I can do?”

Tony just shakes his head before lowering it onto his knees. “I don´ need your pity, Rogers.” He takes another swig from the bottle. Steve doesn´t know how to comfort him, but he doesn´t want to leave, either. They sit in silence for a while.

"´s all my fault", Tony mumbles suddenly, less coherent than mere minutes ago. His breathing hitches up. He tries to pull himself up at the counter, failing and losing his balance. Steve is there without thinking, supporting him, but it turns out to be a bad idea. Tony swings a fist at him, his eyes large and glazed over, his whole frame trembling. “Don´t- “ he croaks, “Don´t touch me-”.

“Alright, alright”, Steve mumbles, easing him back to the ground and then taking a step back, not failing to notice the heat radiating from the other man´s body.

“I don´t  wanna - I can´t - no- “ Tony pants, gesticulating into empty space. Steve has no idea where he thinks he is, but he´s sure it´s not here.

“It´s me, Tony,” he says as calm as can manage, “We´re at the tower, remember? Breathe, just breathe, okay?”

“Fuck”, Tony exhales. “It´s just... all going to shit.”

“It´s okay, Tony. You´re running a fever, it´s messing with your senses. Whatever you think you are seeing, it´s not real.” Steve slowly moves into his direction, empty palms raised in front of him. “Let´s get you to bed and- ”

“The fever´s not the problem, Rogers!” Tony yells in a hoarse voice, and Steve is shaken by how desperate he sounds. “You don´t understand, you, you don´t know what´s going on in my head  - what´s happening  - you can´t get -” he breaks off, gasping for breath. The look on his face is pure terror. “It´s not getting any better. I´m - I´m losing this one, Steve. Everyone.”

And that´s when he understands that Tony has been broken for a long, long time. Steve has been to war, he has had his fair share of trauma to deal with in the aftermath - but it was never like this. He has come to terms with his conscience. Whereas Tony... Steve used to think that tech and sarcasm are all there is to the man, that all his reckless, death-provoking actions are simply evidence of how he fails to take anything about life serious. But now it dawns on him that this was just Tony´s way of keeping himself from falling apart. Steve wonders how a person can talk so much about himself and yet reveal so little.

He doesn´t know what to say. And it doesn´t matter, because he is not the one needed here.

“Does Pepper know?” he finally asks.

Tony is sunken together, looking like a shadow of himself, but his eyes focus on Steve, and his ashen face seems a little more lucid.

“Not...not all of it.”

He attempts to collect himself and fails. When he looks at Steve, his mask has nearly fallen, and he is an inch from pleading.

“Cap, please, just don´t try to help in that.” He takes a shallow breath, then another, and swallows frantically. “This is my mess, my fault, and trust me, you don´t wanna be pulled into it. I´m - I´m gonna get it under control, somehow.”

He reaches for the bottle, misses it. He doesn´t try again, and that´s how Steve knows his words were empty. Because Iron Man wouldn´t give up, ever.

He takes a decision.

“Just let me get you to bed, at least.” It´s not a question. Steve pulls the other man up and frowns when he realizes that Tony has lost weight, a lot of it. The shirt dangles lose around his body.

They stop at a trash can halfway through the corridor for Tony to heave up bile and what smells like pure alcohol. He´s barely conscious anymore when Steve positions him into bed and drags a blanket over his trembling form. Once Tony has fallen into a fitful, feverish sleep, the lines of exhaustion and pain never leaving his face, Steve sets water and aspirin on the bedside table and quietly leaves the room.

He pulls out his phone. Tony is going to hate him for that, maybe forever. But if there is something Steve Rogers has become good at doing, it´s taking hard choices. Most of them were of the kind that would haunt him for the rest of his life, but if he had do, he´d take them all over again.

The phone rings two, three times. It´s late, the night already melting into morning, but he knows that she will pick up eventually, as clear as he knows that she will help.

Pepper doesn´t sound sleepy when she answers the call.

“It´s Steve”, he states, preparing himself to speak the words Tony could never say. “We need to talk.”

part 2

[kpop-melody]

BTS reaction to their girlfriend’s eating disorder

Anonymous said:

Hi! Can I please have a reaction of the boys s/o having an eating disorder? I understand if you can't do it, I know it's a delicate subject. Than you so much.❤❤ 

Hey you >< thanks for requesting ! hope you enjoy  ❤

TRIGGER WARNING

Jin (Bulimia Nervosa):

Soekjin loved that you would eat all the food he prepared so eagerly, as usual you excused yourself to the bathroom. He was used to that, it was your habit. He accidentally cut his finger cleaning up and went jump to the bathroom to get a band aid. 

The sound of you vomiting scared him, he started at you as you shoved your fingers down your throat. He didn't say anything, he couldn't.

Your eyes met his in horror, you didn't know what to tell him. You cleaned up with him staring at you. He was lost in space, you putting a band aid on his bleeding finger brought him back to Earth. 

He'd wondered why you were on the thinner side while everyone related to you wasn't. Soekjin tried to get you to talk about it but you refused.

He soon couldn't stand seeing you get sicker, he won't leave you until you talked. Unltimatly you gave up and told him that you were bulimic.

He practically begged for you to get help, it broke your heart to see him so worried so you forced yourself to get help. You counted the months that passed as you were placed under struck supervision, you couldn't remember the last time you forced yourself to purge, your body was getting fuller.

A small smile came to your lips, the words of everyone around you rand in your head. Arms wrapped around you telling you how bedutiful you were, you couldn't help but feel grateful.

Suga (Anorexia):

You being thin was an issue in your relationship but when you begun refusing to eat that became a problem.

Yoongi wasn't one to force you to eat as he always thought you ate as he never stayed to watch you eat and your plate would be clean when he came back.

Your weight took a turn for the worse when you found old picture of yourself. Yoongi noticed a drastic drop in your weight so he asked you about it. You simply said you were on a diet however there was no need for you to be on a diet as you were thin enough.

Yoongi sat down with you and talked about you getting smaller this only made you angry, he said that being this small couldn't be healthy. You had an outburst of anger, that quickly turned into tears. Your idea of the perfect body becoming convoluted.

You hated yourself but somehow Yoongi loved you. You agreed with him and saw a psychiatrist. It was beyond hard for you to eat, it was struggle everyday to get you to eat and Yoongi never gave up on you so you didn't give up on yourself. You looked back on those days with a side smile, you were healthy now, maybe even a bit chubby and no words could hurt you as long as Yoongi loved you.

J-Hope (Binge Eating Disorder):

You were a binge eater and Hoseok didn't mind that, sometimes he'd even join you. You being chubby was adorable in his eyes. But he did thing that your eating habits were strange, eat like crazy one day then diet the other, the diets wouldn't last that long then the cycle begun again.

Your parents tried there best to get you to see a therapist but you refused, you didn't want to be judged. Your gain in weight was constantly on your mind but you couldn't stop eating, it was becoming your only friend. Hosoek didn't like how you distanced yourself from him, turning to food instead. You refused to talk about it until Hoseok said that you should talk to your parents if you didn't want to talk to him. You could see that he was hurt so with a sigh you told him about your childhood, where your parents had to hide the food in the house from you.

Hoseok didn't like seeing you in pain, he blamed himself for not noticing quicker. He promised that you'd get better. The days after that were filled with therapist visiting, going to the gym and dieting.

You fought with yourself, it was hard to keep yourself from over eating. Every time you felt that you needed to eat something you'd go to Hoseok to distract you and it worked. You couldn't believe that you finally didn't need food for comfort anymore, you didn't know what you would have don't without Hoseok.

RM (Purging Disorder):

You constantly being sick was the norm, no matter how hard Namjoon tried he couldn't get you to see a doctor. Hearing you empty your stomach so often wasn't comforting.

Eventually he couldn't take the sight of you being miserable anymore, he hated lying to you but he tricked you into going to the doctor. You how argued for almost an hour before you agreed to talk to the doctor.

It didn't take long before your medical records were brought up, purging disorder, you've had it since high school. Namjoon felt betrayed that you'd never told him even after you'd been together for so long but he pushed that aside you needed him.

Doctor's appointment after doctor's appointment, constant supervision and a stable diet was annoying to you. You felt mentally ill from not purging so often, every now and then you'd get a change but you'd feel guilty right after, especially when Namjoon told you that he as proud of you.

Time practically flew by and you didn't feel the need to purge anymore, no words could express how grateful you were to Namjoon.

Jimin (Orthorexia):

You having a strict healthy diet was normal in people who wanted to watch their weight but you were completely healthy. Your diet became stricter and stricter the more you obsessed over being healthy. Jimin brought up the idea of you being a bit strange for not eating or drinking the simplest of things. You decided to do your own research, you came Orthorexia but you refused to believe that you had an eating disorder, the whole idea of your diet was you being healthy, wasn't it?

Jimin brought up the word Orthorexia after he did his own research. You denied it but in the back of our mind you knew it was possibility however you carried on with your diet.

Something wasn't right, Jimin tried and tried to get you to talk but you were stubborn. You agreed on going to the doctor to prove that you were healthy just to so Jimin from agitating you but the doctors visit wasn't what you thought it would be. Your body was suffering from lack of nutrients.

Your efforts to be healthy were futile. A psychiatrist, general practitioner and a nutritionist, these were the people you were seeing the most. Your eating habits changed drastically within a year, now you were healthy and you had Jimin to thank for that.

V (Night Eating Disorder):

Taehyung knew how much you loved food however it was strange that you never went out to eat with anyone, even him. Most times you ate at night by yourself.

He was a bit embarrassed that he had to decline every offer to eat out, having to come up with an excuse each time. You were a bit on the chubby side never stopped him from finding you cute. You were aware of your disorder but didn't bother with it.

Taehyung placed a bag of takeout in front of you with a smile. The smell of the food made your mouth water but you didn't want to eat in front of him, you were worried that he would judge you about how you ate.

Taehyung knew something was wrong and he made it his mission to find out what it was and he did. You confessed to him while in tears, he just held you, then told you he'd help you get through it.

With professional help, a diet plan and a exercise schedule which was a bit difficult to get you to agree to you slowly but steady got healthier.

Jungkook (Rumination Syndrome):

You knew about your disorder as it was diagnosed when you were a teenager however you refused to get further medical help. The topic came up naturally as you two were talking. Jungkook suggested that you get help once again, you were reluctant but you did go back and luckily you did, as you disorder was harming your body.

Test after test Jungkook never left your side. He ensure that you took your medication whether he was there or not.

Through tedious sessions with your psychiatrist you were able to learn to stop your involuntary regurgitation.

Jungkook stay with you every time you felt it coming on. He held your hand and encourage you anyway he could.

~A

[wanderingsatanist]

Its one of those nights where I wanted to fall asleep early yet here I am, ten after midnight, wide awake and interrogating my past, like I could rediscover breakthrough revelations instead of just making myself sad.

I downed about four anti-anxiety sleeping pills and I’m just waiting for them to take effect. I still taste the raw, chalky, bitter taste on my tongue and down my throat, like it left a trail. I’m starting to feel dopey and typing isn’t as easy as it should be so I guess that means they’re working.

I’m sad. And I’m scared. I’m scared for the future because what the fuck is the point of going to college and landing myself in debt when the world is going to end anyway? That’s dramatic. I’m still nervous about going to college, though.

I’m one of five. I feel like the rest of my siblings are out with their lives put together and I’m here working a shitty part time job with an obvious drinking problem. My three half siblings poke fun at it, not taking anything seriously. I’m the little retard in their eyes, and I mean that in the most offensive way possible. Yeah, it fucking hurts me, too. Being mentally ill is probably the worst thing to ever happen to me, and half of me wishes that somehow I’ll fucking die in my sleep tonight. The measly four pills proved too much for me, I drown in my own vomit or my respiratory stops or I don’t know. Something.

Fuck am I out here doing? Thriving? Ha! No. I’m miserable. I’m alone. I glare at humanity and I glare at my reflection and I think it’s so painstakingly clear that I wasn’t meant to be on this planet. I’m not happy. I can’t make myself happy. What brings joy to others fills me with discontent. Substances help, but only for a short time. I’ve never had a stable source of happiness since I was a child, and you could find it in the dinner you’re having that night or the thought of a school field trip coming up. Writing helps, but writing isn’t what it used to be. All-powerful, now it’s something I feel I can only do when I’m under the influence.

Again, I’m not thriving. The world won’t fucking miss me if I was gone—the world wouldn’t even notice. I’m not just being theatrical, cynical maybe, but I’m also able to be realistic in my claim. I could go for weeks without talking to anyone, no one checking up on me, just binging in my room and piling up the bottles or watching smoke cloud my room like a foggy overcast. I’ve done it before. People have their own lives to tend, and I’m not apart of their immediate selves. I can text them first, “hey! didnt you notice I was gone? I’ve been fucking miserable!” And watch them get defensive and fight with them and let out all the anger and pain sheer loneliness has brought, but...what’s the fucking point? Things don’t change, I’m still locked in solitaire like I’m in punishment for a crime in a past life, and they’re still out living a life I wish I could experience.

I’m not thriving. I’m actually really, really sad. In a numb sort of way. I’ve grown used to the feeling and now it’s just like a basic setting, an idle preference. The sadness is always there and I’ve learned to live with it. I remember when it first came, how hard it was to function. Now that I can function, I’m finding it even harder to live.

Hey, who knows? Maybe I will die tonight. As selfish as it sounds, I’m not too worried about my family. They have their own lives, their own loves and passions and dedications that I would have never effected even if I remain in the world of the breathing. They’ll be sad, of course they’ll be sad. Death is sad. But they’re get over it. And like a martyr, I’ll be what they tell others, the thing that made them stronger. And others will look up to them, think how amazing they are for living through a tragedy and still being able to come out on the other side, and they’ll realize they have become a whole lot more interesting when my death created a new chapter in their lives.

That’s mean. Sorry, family who will never read this. I’m depressed and the pills are making me feel hazy and my whole body hurts. I’m sorry.

But you also know it’s fucking true.

[concretenostalgia-blog]

What is Found in the Wake of Resurgent Love

That’s dawn breaking, splitting seamed heart on edge of bright sword, among other things.  And the flock, in the park, ripping the grass, putting feathers to rest, a gleam in eye of water, it all is here and here we work.  We work.  We leave grindstones and head to pacify our torments, our stale bread sorrowed and hunger.  Not physically edible hunger, a hunger of the spirit.  A resigning to the backwash lands and rows and halls and pastures.  Out of step.  Passages of this morning star through the click-clack houses and towers too tall for small town yet dream of being nothing more than small town, with their one gas station, and their ice cream shop, and their water tower delivering assurance of rest despite loneliness terrorizing those who are too far from anything and anyone and all that life happening always and forever.  I wish you could dream of it, you know, I wish you could dream of it, too.  But that’s what it is.  Being in a roomful of heads with no restless spirit and on-the-perfect-line mindset heartset on doing what is supposed to be, instead of being what is supposed to do.  Bashful invertebrates, I’m sorry for nothing and hopeful for most and hung up on one in particular who is too far from me to where I am not able to show them how I feel and think and work and dream and all these other things that, all-together considered, prove that one is human.


How can one predict the end when the end is always just about to be?  I don’t forget that which truly matters to me.  That which has impacted me in a grand degree.


I don’t wanna be a character anymore.  I have no outward appearance, at least I don’t think I do.  Not something I have noticed.  I killed that character in me, for good or for worse, I wounded him and shoved him away and now I locked the door with him banging behind it, trying to get out and continue this masquerade yet I am sick and losing it and my mind is dangerous and I am sorry that I am wrong again, this play called life is sickening me.  Another blow to humanity I am and that’s a wrap a title a lack of god given right to be an animal, please make me an animal again, those eyes betraying every single stroke of luck.  It hurts, you know, to know and to think and to act accordingly to nature which itself is wild and untamable no matter what we do, it is either wild or destroyed, nothing more nothing less.  I am scared to love everything again, to hope for everything, to extend energy and soul until thinned and bereft of happiness myself, I don’t know how much I have left in me for anything and this perplexes and frightens me.  I don’t know what to do at the end.  I don’t know what I would do after it, going out beyond it.  Hell, what would you do?  How you would act?  Betray those things we consider human?  A fine line, the fringed line, wrapping around smiles and faces and ugly bedridden bodies trampling themselves, covered in hair and beards and teeth shaking fences there is a cage you put me in and I want out out out out out out out out out out you fucking bastard you let me out again and I will save you, I will save us and we will finish what we started, don’t kill me yet, let me die with you in due time, in old age where we will smile down upon all that was had and done and accomplished and hoped for and human to human dignity restored in thyself.  A story without an actual end, letting the rotted out to grow blooming beauty from it, decay into salvation, a heart attacked by storm only saved to float on boat to horizonline.


You are ecstatic from it, this realization, a sickening sensation of dread piling at your door your knocking, dum-dum-dum, the knocking at your door is feeling a thud, accusations are here and I will not run now.  Been running all my life and now after not running for a bit I begin again away from so-called friends and those who mean everything to me and that I cannot exist without yet here I am running from them I repeat myself psycho it’s okay I am crazy and that is fine I’d rather be that than a normal average person who dilutes themselves shot television sedative oh the moth to lamp life cycle you can’t catch that light it is only bringing you to a series of inane and ineffective fucking rejections again and again, sold the story hallelujah, binged on nothing but my own breath.  Mop headed radical of the night, soaking up the darkness with short tempered sadness, along the river white, lest ye forget thou lack of self, petty patterns giving way to poets and writers of the modern day death trap.  This is furious.  Bend the edge and push your body all the way towards oblivion, there is no END THERE IS NO END THERE IS NO END I dare you to believe me and see where this all goes, I told you I am psychotic and that is okay, I am still in love with you and knows it too, beige walls are telling me ghost stories here in Indianapolis, a fever for wrecking homes and those who are not eager enough to let demons and angels go get coffee together in such harmony that you could rest easy knowing the wicked are united with the pure as well.


And that sounds as though cannons are barraging the distance, this echo of when my walls will fall and the animal will be let loose again I hope that I’ll be fine too, I will be.  This thing we call writing has saved my life, for reasons I have yet to understand or know, but it has and continues to give me what I need to survive.  It is the only thing I do well, the only thing I know how to do, it is natural and completes me when I am involved heavily into it.  Without this I have no course of action, a passenger with no passage to roll along, a man without any known body to live in, no home to call home, a voiceless priest who drags knuckles in circles waiting for the doom and freedom of death and release into that void, that void which is the truth to our own salvation.


*


Look at us, worried a bit too much about everything, when all of this is feeble and mindless.  One goes and hurts another, and why?  I am guilty of it, encamped in it, divisive as much as you are and I am the one spouting about unity and all that regard, woah that handful of bulletproofing will not save you from doomsday, painted by chimpanzees facial recognition bellowing through thin air and your pants, they are on and your shirt, is off and your voice, is callused and your hair, is intertwined and your name, is hidden behind your smile and your love, is chosen for eternity and placed beside one and only one and that’s all there ever has been and will be and forever.  Down the point in all these road where intersecting and motion is all ablaze, energy is rampant at this center.  Yet go down the block or two and tell me what you uncover from behind doors colored and alleys graveled and sing-song whimpering a sweet tune of sugar flakes, melting on tongue when released into wild.  I am bold.  I am human.  I am you, fragile and momentary and just about over it, too.


Now I’ve come to realize, that I’ve written so much about my past experiences in and about this America, that I have now forgotten what it is to be out there.  I have written away any remembrance of my current existence.  And there is a strange freedom with this thought, one that says the slate is clean and it is time to move onward and go ahead, continue beating body against the roadways, looking for anything which could prove any derelict idea sprouting in overpowering head.


*


There have been only two times in my little life, so far, where I’ve felt the surge of all this universal energy coming down to focus in my consciousness on all of everything and the ability to feel everything.  The first time was when I was 21 years old, and I was diving into writing heavily and reading many books.  I was in the middle of “The Electric Kool-Aid Acid Test” by Tom Wolfe.  While reading that book, IT hit me.  I got IT.  I understood IT.  And ever since then, I never could look back without a relentless wonder about IT.  That is when I discovered what IT is and was and always will be.  That moment has indefinitely changed my life, forever, even after this death.  That was the first moment.  The second moment, is about her.


I drifted and began losing my Self while pushing this character that consumed me, this character who slightly over-exaggerated things and reacted wildly to people and was always on the move with no home, a nomadic craze driven energetic spazm of human spirit.  Now, I am that, just not to the extent I pushed this character I wanted to represent me, the whole me.  And doing so, after a while, almost killed my spirit.  I was lifelining my own Self, so I had to wound the beast in my head, hurt the beast so much so that it could stay in line and not consume my whole being.  I did so with writing.  And in doing so, I was barely there.  This beast had become so much of my life that I didn’t know what I did or didn’t enjoy or what I cared for or where I belonged or anything anymore.  I forgot what it is to be alive.  I created this hero of sorts, one who could weather any storm and carry any spiritual death to help revitalize those who abandoned any hope, and in that regard I couldn’t be alive for the sake of my own living.  I was perpetually living for others, and that is always how the human spirit ends never to be reborn.  This is not a selfish thing, I was wholly living to support others, without any replenishment of my own personal spirit.  I would only give give give give give give.  This could not go on forever.  And so I did what I had to, and lost my Self almost completely, and became shallow and cold and vicious and in a daze, a constant mess of fogged emotions.


This went on for about a year, being lost and devalued and unable to produce any sort of grand truth in my writing.  I forgot how to feel, and I was sickened beyond belief.  Not a physical illness, this is all doing with my soul.  And there is this girl who is becoming a young woman, strong and resilient and all of everything I consider beautiful wonderful and truthful.  She was about to go away, at least for a bit, going to college and leaving all this place of youth, a goodbye and into this.  I cared about her, and helped her whenever I could, and was there as a friend and someone to give advice and comfort.  I realized, however, that she would be gone soon, and I wouldn’t be able to have many more opportunities to spend any time with her.  Then one night, I realized another thing.  And the rest of the day I couldn’t cope with the emotions, I was shaking and spazzing and nervous and I could not settle, I was at my friend’s house and they tried but I was losing it.  Went to IHOP, I was stammering on about why I am a writer and why this and the universe and everything I felt when I became conscious and aware of all things, I tried to explain it again to my friends, and then I knew what I had to do.  I made the choice, I had to tell her.  I texted her, with an urgency I could not hold back, we made plans to meet the next morning.  I did not sleep, I was breathing heavily for hours in the darkness of the night turning to dawn, my head racing and thinking only of her and this I had to tell her.  I jumped in my car two hours before I was supposed to meet her and roared across the countryside and landed this stuttering body in the parking lot of a coffee shop, had no will of my own anymore I gave that up two days before.  She arrived, my heart sank, I couldn’t breathe right, I was out of sync, I tried to talk to her and barely mumbled asking if she wants to go around now to get the coffee and then we went around I was looking every which way, freaking out, losing reality, all that good stuff which happens at these times.  I sat outside at a table and she came back out with her coffee and I then I told her what I felt.  It was and is love.  True love, one that every story tries to describe yet to no avail.  I know what love is, I’ve felt it and have it and continue to feel it for her, and I was so scared, I still am scared.  So I told her, she already knew, but I told her and made it at least clear that I have these feelings, that I cannot help but care for her on a human level and about her well-being and I have this hope for her to succeed in everything she wants to accomplish and I am willing to give her all I have to see her enjoy all of this simple yet enduring life a human being has.  And I poorly explained this to her on that day, and that is all my fault.  I was not asking for any relationship, all I wanted to do was let her know, that I found love and she is love, my love, my hope, my adoration, what I cannot help but think of quite often, just hoping she is simply living and laughing and feeling it.  To know that all is good, and we are all pretty alright, us human beings.


She was grateful about me and my confession, yet she had no reciprocating emotions or any shutting down of my explanation.  She accepted it and, without realizing how truthful I was and am about this feeling of complete love for her I have and keep, was gracious and relaxed and already forward in life.  We spent an hour or so together, then we went our separate ways.  I’ve talked to her a little bit since then, over the phone, not in person.  I don’t want to hold her back from becoming the person that she wants and will and must become, I don’t want to pressure her into any sort of thing, so I live my life and give her room to live hers.  I am not obsessive over her, do not get confused.  I care so much about her, and that is simply it.


*


The one thing I wish I could do is look people in the eyes when I am telling them something that I mean with all my heart and spirit.  I, for some reason, do not have the courage to show people.  I did not have the courage to show people.  I did not have the courage to show her all of my heart, and that is the only thing that rips me up a bit inside.


*


I found two things in my, so far short, existence.


One is the meaning of IT, the grand question with even more grand of an answer, which I have been and will continue to work on explaining to the best of my abilities.  That is what I dedicate and will dedicate my life to, no matter how poor or rich or lonesome or alive I might be.


Two is the purity of love, the bold truth that which can conquer anything, the power one human has in them and how that power can be used to help bring about a positive change on the reality of our feeble existence.  Because of this choice made in daring to give in totality my whole being to another, I have started to learn how to live again, I realized how there is no such thing as an end, even when one sees no such thing as hope.


*


It is worth it, all of it.  I hope you know that.  I hope you continue in all you do with your bombastic charm and resilient charge of undying energy for the goodness in humanity and our trying times.  I love you and I always will, no matter what else happens or where we go or who we live with or why we become what we become or anything else that we will eventually find out in our own lives.


You are worth it, all of it.  Don’t ever forget that.

[marshmallowsims]

Psssst... >.> *whispers* All the "Character Questionaire ?'s" for Cardinal! *winks*

FULL NAME

Cardinal Emma Connor (soon to be Coleman)

PREFERRED NAME/NICKNAME

Cardi/Cardinal. She doesn’t mind. 

GENERALLY REFERRED TO AS

Cardi. Though she has a few nicknames which differ depending who she’s talking too. ~ Ginger, red and little one are a few of my favourites. She herself loves “little one” the most because her best friend gave it to her :3 

APPEARANCE.

FACECLAIM: tbh, I am having sucha hard time finding a faceclaim for her. But if I find one i’ll update thisSEX: FemaleHEIGHT: 4′11, though she kinda borders between 4′10 and 11WEIGHT: She’s always been around 90lbs/40kg. Though with the baby shes gone up quite a bit. So currently she’s 105lbs/47kgBUILD: ThinHAIR: Currently its long. Its soft though very curly. She straightens her hair almost everyday which as you can imagine damages it alot. So when it loses that ‘softness’ she ends up cutting it. She often leaves her hair loose but she likes putting it in ponies. She has dyed her hair a few times but she prefers her natural hair colour, red.SKIN: She’s really pale due to the fact that she doesn’t go out in the sun much (she burns really easily) she takes really good care of her skin also. Its kinda more of a self-conscious type of thing. She tries to ‘fix’ the fact that she has scars by ensuring that she doesn’t have any other blemishes and by keeping her skin soft. So its more like “they’ll comment on how soft my skin is and not on how many scars I have” EYES: Green. Like a dark foresty kinda green. In some light they appear a lighter green. She has natural bags under her eyes which sometimes make her look tired, added to the face that when she smiles she squints. Also her one eye squints slightly more than the other. Which is something she absolutely hates. She always takes selfies at an angle for that specific reason. MOUTH: Her mouth i’d say is rather small. And her lips are plumpish. It often looks like shes pouting because the bottom lip just sticks a bit. Also she has a short upper lip so her mouth is slightly open at all times. As for her teeth, they’re straight, however she has a few back teeth missing because they got knocked out. NOSE: She has a small button sorta nose. Its about the only thing she likes lol. HANDS: Her hands are really small, just like the rest of her. And her hands are cold about 90% of the time. She keeps her nails short though and every rarely does she put on nail polish. Its more of like a special occasion thing. FEET: Smol, bony feet. Cold all the time. Which is why she just keeps them in socks xD SCARS: She has about 19 visible scars. She had much more at one point but they’ve faded and become smaller over time. CLOTHES: She doesn’t have a specific ‘style’ she often goes for comfort. Like baggy tees. She does love revealing clothing though. So I suppose that can also be considered as part of her ‘style’ OTHER FEATURES: She got her ears pointed when she was 15. So her pointy ears. OTHER NOTEABLE FEATURES: She has her ears and tongue pierced. 

SPEECH.

VOICECLAIM: no voiceclaim either. Again - having a hard time finding one that fits her. ACCENT: She has an Irish accent. Although its been toned down a bit due to having been in America for so long now. VERBAL TICKS: She doesn’t actually talk that much. Shes more of a show than tell type of person. So no verbal ticks. LANGUAGE: She speaks English, Gaelic and a bit of french, though she isn’t very fluent in it. ARTICULATION: Clumsy with words (just like me) EDUCATION: She prefers short simple words. Though she does like throwing in big words when shes trying to prove someone wrong or when shes pissed off.LAUGHTER: Her laugh is more of a giggle. Though she doesn’t laugh often. Jackson is kinda the only person who can really make her laugh at anytime, other than that she will laugh at funny things on TV and the like. GRUMP: She does whine a lot when grumpy. And grunts when annoyed xD  BREATHING: She sighs pretty often 

MANNERISMS.

FACE: Sometimes when she’s worried you can tell because she wears at her lip but other than that she has a ‘resting pout face’ HANDS: She doesn’t do any hand gestures. But she does play with her fingers, or pull at her clothing when talking. She fiddles a lot. LEGS/FEET: She taps her foot when excited or nervous. And she tends to bounce on the soles of her feet when excited. EMOTIONAL OUTBURSTS: Cardi is… very emotional. So this happens… often. Random outbursts throughout the day is common for her HABITS: She fidgets and bites her lip. POSTURE: Her posture is really good most of the time. Mostly just due to years of discipline. Though she slumps if her mood is bad.  WALKING POSTURE: Shes the ‘skip gleefully’ type. Her walk is always energetic. Though if shes grumpy then she purposely slumps and drags her feet till someone asks whats wrong. SITTING POSTURE: She likes to sit cross legged PERSONAL SPACE: She has some problems with personal space. Like hugging people and any physical contact really. However when shes comfortable around people then she’d just affectionately lick their cheek and grab their hand or anything random that’ll make the other person laugh… or shake their head. SPACIAL AWARENESS: She notices everything around her, and will get anxious if something is suddenly out of place. When sleepy all that just goes though. OTHER: She scrunches up her nose when in thought 

HEALTH:

DIET: Her eating habits used to very unhealthy. She’d go days without eating only to later binge on junk food (when sober) otherwise the only thing in her system would be alcohol. However her eating habits have improved a lot since becoming pregnant and of couse because of Jackson’s influence. She does still have days though where she binges on an unhealthy amount of ice-cream. SLEEP: Her sleeping habits aren’t the best. She has very bad nightmares which sorta makes her scared of going to sleep at night. Due to that she’d stay up till she actually passed out from exhaustion. Though, just like her eating habits, this has improved a lot. She does still get nightmares but they are much less now. And (because of bird) she goes to be early and wakes up early. EXERCISE: She loves running and going on walks.ACTIVITY: She can be very lazy xD but if she wants something she’ll work really hard to get it. Then any bit of laziness just evaporates. CLEANLINESS: She loves taking baths and showers. ODOUR: Shes always cold so she doesn’t really sweat that much, but when she does she doesn’t smell particularly bad. Just.. normal person smell xD MEDICINAL DRUGS: She used to take anti-depressants and sleeping pills. She’s stopped since becoming pregnant though.  NARCOTICS: nopeADDICTIONS: Drinking. ILLNESS: noneINJURIES: She does get really bad back pain and other aches due to past abuse that her body went through. She also has some problems with her kidneys so she does get pain from that. PARASITES: nopeeOTHER: She has trouble using her left hand. Like the grip is weakened due to a past suicide attempt. 

PERSONAL.

INTROVERT/EXTROVERT?: She is definitely an extrovert. She does get very shy when first meeting people. OPTIMIST/PESSIMIST: Kinda in between. She switches between the two depending on her mood. GENDER: FemaleSEXUALITY: She is sexually attracted to both males and females. She’s heavily attracted to anyone that takes on the role of a ‘caregiver’ so if they look like they could be her mommy/daddy then she’s definitely interested. However when shes feeling self destructive then shes basically into anyone that looks like they could hurt her. ROMANTIC: Shes super cheesy. Into that whole romantic deal. The cheesier the romance the better. She loves it. MEMORY: She remembers everything that a person tells her. Which in time works for her because she can very easily remind them of things they’ve said. PLANNING: She’s ‘good’ at planning. But she chooses to wing it most of the time. She lives for anything spontaneous and out of the blue. She’s the type that would show up at your doorstep without calling first. PENSIVE: She thinks about everything. Then she rethinks it. Again, and again. Till she has a mental break down and hates herself even more. And repeat. INTUITION: She is the absolute worse at making good decisions. She’s very self-destructive and impulsive. So that never ends well when given a choice between a good and a bad thing. PROBLEM SOLVING: Shes good at solving other peoples problems. GOALS: Her main goal in life is to just live long enough to see her kid grow up. Short term goals would be to actually not chase away Jackson. INSECURITIES: Everything. She is insecure about everything. Literally, name a body part or her personality and she could probably give you at least 10 reasons as to why she hates it. ACHIEVEMENTS: Shes proud of having made bird and for not yet ruining her relationship completely. ANXIETY: thinking about the future causes a lot of anxiety for her. Thinking about raising bird. Anything relating to parents/her parents. When people look at her scars for too long.OVERWHELMED: She gets overwhelmed easily. Sometimes little things are enough to cue a mental breakdown. SELF-HELP: LMAO there is no self help. Shes a self-destructive mass who relies on others to make her feel better about herself. COMFORTS: Giffery. Nothing can comfort her more than that Giraffe canBAD HABITS: She is a bad habit on her own xD but really, her drinking habits are bad. Also she bites her lip and her cheeks till the point where they bleed (when shes nervous/anxious) PHILOSOPHY: she believes that everyone is out to get her. Does that count?TRIGGERS: Parents. That’s it. Just hearing people talk about their moms/dads is enough to bring back things that she would much rather keep buried deep down. 

THE PAST.

PARENTS/GUARDIANS: She has a really really bad relationship with her parents, to the point where their names actually make her sick. Its.. messed up SCHOOL: She was home-schooled, so she didn’t really have a choice to not focus xD but she enjoyed having something to do so she did really well. ADOLESCENCE: This is when he ‘rebellious’ stage kinda kicked in. She also started drinking and just kinda became more apparent that she’s a mess. LEAVING HOME: Leaving home is something she marks as the best decision in her life. She’d been wanting to leave since before she even hit her ‘teen’ years so finally being able to lifted a huge weight off her shoulders. FURTHER EDUCATION: She went to college, shes currently in her third year which she does online.FIRST JOB: Her first job was working as a zoo keeper. She enjoyed it a lot. She loves wild animals so it was a really nice experience for her.LIFE EVENTS: She doesn’t really have one singular life event. More as like a whole bunch just pushed together. I think meeting someone who actually cared for her changed a lot of things for her. And then obviously falling pregnant is a really big and significant life event. However her childhood alone has a lot too do with how she’s ended up. WORST DAY OF THEIR LIFE: [possible suicide trigger] - worst day of her life, and one she still recalls with exact detail, is her first failed attempt. Just the after affects of it all. How she was treated in the hospital. How her parents both changed towards her (becoming harsher) her brother changed around her too. And it made everything ‘worse’ than it was before. To her anyway. BEST DAY OF THEIR LIFE: She doesn’t have one day that she counts the best. It’d be impossible for her too choose just one. However most of the ‘best days’ shes had involve Jackson or bird or both. LESSONS: Most important lessons she’s learned is that you can’t always rely on people to be there for you. And sometimes you have to deal with the most difficult of things alone. LOOKING BACK: [possible suicide trigger] looking back, the one thing she would change is making sure that her ‘attempts’ actually worked. Even with all the good things going on in her life right now, she still carries so much and none of that will ever go away. 

RELATIONSHIPS.

FAMILY: She doesn’t have any grandparents or extended family. So its just her parents and her brother, whom she doesn’t always get alone with. Her parents she just hates and they her. Though, her real dad, is still out there somewhere. She has his number but she’s scared he’ll be as bad as all the rest. FRIENDSHIPS: She loves loves making friends, but she doesn’t have many. She’s not the best at starting up conversations but shes working on it. The friends she does have she loves dearly. FRIENDS IN NEED: She tries to help her friends as much as possible. With anything going on in their life she’ll drop everything she can and be there for them. She’s really supportive, understanding and she doesn’t judge either. So if they ever need her she does what she can. If all else fails she offers tons of hugs and baked goods.NEEDING A FRIEND: She’s still working on actually accepting help from people. She’s so used to doing everything alone that even when she truly needs them she’ll keep quite and try and deal with everything herself.ANNOYANCES: She hates arguing but more often than not she is the one to cause arguments (shes a shit, best to accept it now) she turns small things into something big and it kinda spirals from there. That or she just ignores whoever shes mad at (something she isn’t very good at)ROMANCE: “I’m a mess. First they feel sorry for me, then they fall in-love with me” quoting her twitter lol. But romancing people… she flirts. And she can be kinda good at that. Mostly she just puts it out there that she’d do anything for them and all she wants in turn is to be loved. Its pitiful. That’s why it works so well. MARITAL PROBLEMS: She tries to talk it out. But most of the time her and Jackson will argue, like big very big argument. And when she gets upset shes more likely to speak whats on her mind so then it comes out whats actually going on and they work from there. ADVERSARIES: kinda silly but if the person doesn’t necessary pay ‘attention’ to her then she just pulls away. She hates not feeling needed. ENEMIES: She doesn’t have any enemies. And you’d have to screw up really badly in order to become her enemy. She doesn’t even view her parents as her enemies and they messed up really really badly. STRANGERS: She gets shy around people she doesn’t meet. And it takes her a while to trust them. So with strangers she’ll be very pulled away and short till she gets to know them better. FUN STUFF: She views anything as fun. Going out to any kinda ice cream place is the funnest for her. And well, anything goofy and crazy. DATING: She loves going out. She doesn’t mind staying in occasionally but she gets restless and wants to go out to do stuff. BEST FRIEND: She considers Jeon as her best friend. She trusts him more than everyone else.  LOVE: She loves Jackson. And she literally considers him the love of her life WORST ENEMY: nobody. RESPECT: She respects everyone. Even people she doesn’t like. Though if someone is flat out mean to her then she will be back. Or she’ll just cry… probably that. 

INTERACTIONS.

MINGLING: I think she gets along well with almost everyone. There are some who find her annoying but she tries not to be overbearing or needy. But she really tries to be friends with everyone. COMFORT LEVELS: She gets uncomfortable if people get very touchy-feeley. If she knows them well then she doesn’t mind but otherwise she hates it. PHYSICAL: If she doesn’t know them then she keeps her distance. However when shes comfortable around them she gets very affectionate. Wanting to hug them all the time, poking them, playing with their hands. Patting their heads etc…GROUPS: She doesn’t like groups very much. 4-5 is max for her. OPENNESS: Shes very open about everything thats happened to her. She has no problem explaining in detail. Buuuut, when it comes to feelings/telling people how she felt during all that thennn you’re going to struggle to get it out of her. GENEROSITY: She likes buying things for people and visa versa. She’ll love anyone who buys things for her JEALOUSY: She kinda gets jealous of people that are happy. lmao. Its petty honestly but she just gets more sad than jealous. She gets super protective though and gets jealous easily when her friends are talking to others. TEMPER: She has a very short temper xD EMPATHY: She’s really good at being empathetic. She often tries to relate on how the other person is feeling so that she can know what to say to them. Not always to make them feel better but just so that they know that she gets it. AFFECTION: Often by spamming them with messages. Or just giving out lots of hugs. DISTASTE: She actually makes it really apparent by just flat out telling them. She hates giving off mixed signals or well making them feel disliked so she’d rather just tell them. ETIQUETTE: She tends to be polite. But she sometimes loses that filter and gets a bit TMI without really realizing itRESPONSIBILITY: She is very irresponsible. She can barely look after herself lol. But I mean she does try. She is really good with pets and taking care of them. And she takes good care of Jackson when she’s sick. As for taking responsibility over her actions… she does that.. sometimes. Only when she knows she truly screwed up and needs to fix it. SELF ESTEEM: Shes used to people pushing her around so she takes it. She won’t stand up for herself because shes just… so used to it that she can’t imagine anyone being nice to her without having some kinda gain. CONFIDENCE: She hates herself. So confidence is almost non-existent. But shes working on it. And she gets little spurts where she doesn’t hate herself as much. HONESTY: She worries sometimes about hurting out peoples feelings but she tries to be as honest as possible. She does have her secrets though. LEADER OR FOLLOWER: Shes certainly not a leader but she also hates following xD PARTY TRICKS: she’s very good at making people uncomfortable PRAISE: She tends to praise others. But she’s not used to getting praise in turn. She thinks she’s being lied to then. FAILURES: She considers herself a failure and just assumes that everything thinks the same xDCRITICISM: Her response to someone criticizing her would be “same”INSULTS: insults/compliments. She can’t tell the difference. There’s hardly anything anyone can say to her that she doesn’t already say to herself. EMBARRASSMENT: She gets embarrassed really easily. Her whole face turns red. Its adorable. FLIRTING: Shes flirty in a fun type of way. Its kinda just another way that she shows affection by ‘joke flirting’ ATTENTION SPAN: She gets distracted very easily. Like… very very easilySITUATIONS: social situations going bad… she kinda freaks a little. Often wants to leave/get away. 

LIFE.

CAREER: She doesn’t have a career at the moment. However she is studying to be a pathologist. She does want to get a part time job after the baby is born to get Jackson off her backPROMOTION: read above ^ BOSS: She is her own boss. She hates her boss. DUTY: At the moment, because she stays at home, she mostly just does normal house spouse things. And she studies. TECH: Shes very in the whole social media thing. POLITICS: She kinda just tries to avoid the whole ordeal. COMBAT SKILLS: She can punch and kick but thats about it. Oh and she bites. HOME: She likes everything to be as neat as possible. Jackson’s kinda messy so she lets some things slide just so she doesn’t make herself go crazy. DAILY LIFE: She has a hard time actually getting up in the morning. But she manages. INDEPENDENCE: She depends a lot on others to assure that she does not destroy herself. She CAN do most things on her own. But she needs that extra support and help. COOKING: She’s not the best cook. But she can bake very well. BUILDING: She likes putting things together. Especially if its lego CLEANING: She hates cleaning but she likes when things are neat and in place so she does it more just to keep her sanity up. She loves when Jackson gives her small chores to do though. SHOPPING: She loves online shopping. And spends a great deal buying her baby more clothing than she’d ever wear xD DRIVING: She can but its always a hassle to get the seat right so she can touch the pedals. FINANCES: As someone who never had much growing up is careful as to what she spends it all on. So shes careful. However she does like going on little clothing sprees. MARRIAGE: She never pictured herself getting married. She never even pictures herself as making it past 18 but hey, here she is. Engaged and nearly 21KIDS: She never wanted kids. But accidents happen and well she loves her baby more than anything else in the world. She definitely doesn’t want anymore kids though. PETS: She loves animals, and currently she and Jackson have a cat and a dog.DEPENDANTS: She looks after the animals. And after Jackson when he is sick (which happens more often than you think) LAW: Underage drinking. COURT: She has a few times in her life while trying to get a restraining order against her dad. PRISON: nopeTRAVELLING: She hasn’t traveled much. Her and Jackson did go to Ireland beginning this year and she wants to go again. Shes also going to be visiting New York after bird is born. MEDICAL: She super scared of doctors. She tries everything to avoid them and she just has a fear of needing to go to the doctor/hospital. ILLNESS: She has a few mental illnesses. WORRIES: She worries a lot about people leaving her. Suddenly not being good enough. Something happening to bird. PEACE: She hates the quite. She sleeps better when there are some noises. Like the hum of the fridge or Felix (her dog) snoring. PARTYING: She ‘used’ to go partying a lot. Often went to extremes with her brother and his friends. And she took whatever chance she could get to go partying when she moved away too. Though that ceased when she went to college, she just stopped going out cause she didn’t know the place. HOBBIES: She reads a lot. And she writes. She also likes taking pictures of anything and everything. 

[amazingphanisnotonfire-imagines]

Luke Hemmings Imagine: I Have Something to Tell You.

Request: Can I please request a Luke imagine where the reader is nervous to tell Luke how she feels about him, because she has BPD and he has become her favorite person? Then she tells him and he says he’ll support her and then confesses his love to her and they kiss? 

Trigger Warning: Mentions of Borderline Personality Disorder. Don’t read if this triggers you.

Also I do not have Borderline Personality Disorder so I do not know what it is like, but I have researched a lot about it and have tried to understand the best I can. I hope I have got everything right, if I haven’t just tell me and I can change it. I hope this does not upset or offend anyone as that is the last thing I want to do. I want to write this to help people who may suffer from BPD, or for people who do not have it understand. I have provided links at the bottom of this imagine for anyone who needs them. I can also add more if needed. Thank you. I hope you like this imagine.

*Y/n POV*

I was sat at the café just down the road from where I live waiting for my best friend Luke. I had been feeling very lonely and empty for the past few days and was hoping that if I talked to some of my friend I would feel a bit better. However I was scared that I would start to show some symptoms around Luke and I didn’t want him  to know I had BPD. I had just started to think about how much of a terrible friend I was because I hadn’t told anyone, when I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned around and saw Luke smiling at me . I hadn’t seen him in a few weeks as I had pushed the majority of my friends away, because I thought they were smothering me.

“Hey Y/. How are you? I haven’t seen you in ages. In fact I think the last time I saw you was when you had that really short notice party and got so drunk you couldn’t get to your bedroom. The next day you were so ashamed .” He laughed.

“Huh, yeah, if only you knew.” I mumbled. “I’m fine. How are you and the rest of the boys?”

“We’re fine. Hey do you want to come back to mine, or go somewhere else. I just don’t really like this place.”

“NO, I DON’T LUKE. I’M GOING HOME.” I shouted, standing up. Luke stood up to and tried to get me to calm down but it wasn’t happening. “DON’T COME WITH ME EITHER.” I shouted before storming down the street leaving Luke stood at the café shouting after me.

*Luke’s POV*

“Hey, Lukeyyyyyy. Howwww are youuuuuu.” She sang down the phone.

“I’m fine Y/n. It sound like you aren’t. Is everything okay. Where are you? You just stormed off and now you are ringing me at 1 in the morning drunk.”

”I'mmmm fine.“ She hiccupped and then carried on. "I was just ringingggg you to tell youuuuu that I lover you. And I'mmmmm not just saying this because I’m drunkkkk. I actuallly meannns it. See ya.”

She slurred and then hung up. What the fuck. I thought to myself. I tried ringing her back several times but there was no answer. So I just went back to sleep, and was going to call her in the morning.

*Y/n POV*

The sound of my phone ringing woke me up. The pounding in my head getting worse. Fuck what did I do last night. I answered the phone to the sound of Luke's Morning voice, all deep and raspy. It sort of soothed my headache.

"Hello Y/n?" He asked sounding concerned. He was so cute I thought.

"Hey." I mumbled quietly.

"Are you okay. What was last night about? You love me?"

"Erm, well, errr." I laughed nervously.

"Just explain when I get there."

"Get where?"

"To yours. I'm around the corner so put some clothes on."

"You don't have to I'm fine."

"You can't argue with me, I'm on my way."

5 minutes later there was a knock on the door. I stumbled to the door and slowly opened it. Luke was stood, looking concerned and carrying some flowers.

"These are for you." He said and handed me the flowers.

"Thanks. I think?" I took the flowers and put them on the table beside the door.

We sat down on the sofa and Luke hugged me.

"So what's wrong. You have been acting really weird lately?"

“Well. The thing is, I errr. I have Borderline Personality Disorder or BPD. I have known about it for a few years but I just didn’t want to tell anyone. The doctors don’t really know what causes it. And there are so many symptoms but these are the ones that affect me the most. It makes you have really intense emotions that can last from a few hours to a few days and they change quickly, hence why I was shouting yesterday. It can make you act impulsively which is why I sometimes do quite dangerous stuff like binge drink and also why I had that party. It is also why I told you I loved you last night, oh and it also makes you do things like call people in the middle of the night, you know impulse things. It is also why I go for a while without talking to any of my friends because I think they are getting to close to me, and then I try and push them away. I feel empty and lonely a lot and go through phases where I don’t really know who I am. There is other things to but I can’t think of hem. Anyway, I am sorry I didn’t tell you. It’s just you are my favourite person and I didn't want you to think I am weird and then leave.”  I took a deep breath and looked down, trying not to cry.

“ I would never stop being your friend Y/n. It not your fault it’s just who you are and I will always support you no matter what. I am always here. And because you told me your secret, I will tell you mine. I love you too.”

“Really.” I looked up at him and wiped a tear away.

“Yes. I’m in love with you. Do you love me?”

“Yes, of course I am.” I kissed him and smiled.

“Will you be my girlfriend?” Luke asked.

“I am sorry for anything I say, its just BPD makes you fear abandonment, and I may text you a lot. I also may tell you to go away because I may feel like you are smothering me but please don’t take it personally. I mean, after I have told you this you don’t have to be with me. I know this is a lot for someone.”

“Listen Y/n, you don’t have to say sorry for who you are. I love you no matter what. Just because you have BPD doesn't mean I am going to love you any less. I love all of you, every part, even this and I always will.” He smiles and then kissed me again.

Links to help people and that I used to write this:

- Mind BPD

- Borderline Personality Disorder Website

- NHS BPD

- Rethink Mental Illness BPD

[amorremanet]

takashi shirogane + coping a n d seb + sleep habits

the “character + thing” headcanon meme (aka, “the best of all possible memes, c’mon, you know you wanna”)

Shiro + coping

Shiro voice: “coping? I don’t know her”

Okay, but in all seriousness

It isn’t that Shiro has NO coping skills or coping mechanisms that work for him, and it isn’t that he has no idea how to cope with anything — quite the opposite, really.

But a huge problem for him is that a lot of his coping techniques are, at best, non-ideal and at worst, basically a slow-burn form of self-harm that’s hard to notice because he isn’t obviously crashing and burning, or obviously having some kind of problem, and because he isn’t obviously in trouble, Shiro feels like his techniques must be totally okay

Even if he might acknowledge that they aren’t okay, though? Good luck getting him to actually do anything about that; he’s pretty sure that there are bigger problems

Like, one thing with Shiro is that, for all he values patience and for all he praises forethought, he also gets very easily frustrated if he can’t do something. If that something can’t directly affect whatever the Big Problem of the moment is, then Shiro needs to at least feel like he is Doing Something Productive — which, for him, usually means something like working out.

Maybe it could mean sparring or training with someone, but Shiro is one of those ambiverts who both enjoys being around people and can get destabilized very quickly if he’s left alone for too long, but who also needs a lot of time to himself to just breathe and decompress.

It was like that before he was taken prisoner by the Galra, e.g., a stressful as Hell exam season leading to a big night out and all kinds of hijinks with the other cadets in his class because oh man, everybody needed to just get away from studying, and Shiro would’ve been worried about how his grades would look when they came back so he needed to feel competent and one thing that makes him feel competent is making sure that other people are having a good time — and to a different extent, just being around others while they’re having a good time because who had to learn the hard way about how much his empathy can turn into a Bad Thing for him and how to set boundaries on it? Shiro did

—but then after said night out, he’d retire to his dorm (which probably involved moping, half-asleep, while binge-listening to Fiona Apple, needing to be reminded that it’s generally pretty unhelpful to sleep through lunch and never do anything about it later), and maybe he’d be seen around the gym (with a huge set of headphones on because sure, they’re cumbersome but sometimes, other people don’t always notice earbuds and Shiro wants to please be left alone), and he’d probably only willingly deal with Keith or maybe Matt

Shiro’s time with the Galra has made this tendency worse, but it’s also shoved him into a situation where it’s hard to tell, since he’s the Decisive Head Of Voltron™ now, so he needs all that time alone, but feels like he can’t allow himself to have it or else

(“Or else” what? ……Well, okay, you got him there; Shiro has no idea, “or else what.” But it’d be something Bad, okay, and he is completely certain of this because he just is.)

—but despite the fact that working out can help him clear his head so he can try to deal with things and isn’t inherently bad, Shiro also doesn’t entirely understand this, “moderation” thing you speak of — at least, not when it’s being applied to him.

Sure, he gets it in theory…… but in practice, he has an approach that’s more like, “Okay, it hasn’t cleared my head yet, so clearly, it can’t be that I need to find some other way to deal with whatever is on my mind and troubling me right now; I just have to push harder until it does work.” Sometimes, he makes it work out okay.

Other times, it doesn’t, and Shiro either ends up getting interrupted by something (emergency drill, “a wild Sendak appeared!”, “oh no, the castle is trying to kill everyone!”, Coran begging him to come intervene so Lance and Pidge can’t try to turn something into a screen on which to play their Mercury Gameflux II, literally anything)

……or he ends up with a seriously peeved little brother who is very likely going to yell at him because Keith is worried and he’s scared and unfortunately for everyone, he tends to get angry when he’s scared and then promptly loses control of the volume of his voice (because he’s usually not aware of how loud he’s being until someone points it out)

All of this…… will probably not get any better when Shiro gets back from wherever the Hell he’s hiding. Like, on one hand, it might get so bad that it actually becomes a more visible problem and leads to him getting some kind of help and learning better coping skills (and things like, “Yes, you’re the Decisive Head Of Voltron and all, but you have a right to ask for help with your problems, too”)

……But it could also get a lot worse and Shiro could just get better at repressing everything and acting like everything is fine (relative to the situations they’re in, anyway), and focusing on everybody else’s issues while completely ignoring his own. Only time will tell.

Seb + sleep habits

Seb voice: “sleep habits? Who’s that?”

……yeah, but seriously, though

Let’s not mince words about it: Seb’s sleep habits are unhealthy as shit, and if he maybe talked about them more and/or just took them more seriously (i.e., didn’t brush them off as, like, “I just couldn’t sleep last night, it’s not a big deal, it happens to everybody” [which isn’t untrue, Seb, but the thing is, it doesn’t happen quite so consistently with most people unless there is something Not Good going on for them] or look for tons of excuses about why he couldn’t sleep), then it’s quite possible that he would’ve gotten a depression diagnosis a lot sooner than he actually does in-story

Unfortunately, on one hand, we have one of Seb’s biggest and most common problems in all things ever (namely that he does not think he has any so-called, “real problems,” because that’s silly, why would he have, “real problems”; “real problems” are for literally everyone else in the world because, “they deserve to have ‘real problems’”)

—so, in his mind, of course it’s not a big deal when he can’t sleep but feels useless while he’s lying in bed with his pit-mix Lola, waiting to fall asleep (which makes him feel worse and can all too easily lead him down a self-loathing rabbit hole), so he gives up on that, goes back downstairs, and bakes things while watching whatever’s on TV or in the Blu-Ray/DVD player until he’s finally tired enough to crash on the couch for a couple hours

(which doesn’t really make him feel better and is often an ill-advised waste of his energy reserves, but on the other hand, doing something makes him feel less useless, and lets him temporarily escape the self-loathing rabbit hole — if for no other reason than, “well, he has to focus on his baking, which means he can’t focus on finding reasons to hate himself and/or rehashing old ones” — and he enjoys cooking, especially baking, and especially baking that he knows other people enjoy because he likes making other people happy)

Like, if it were literally anyone else doing anything like that, he’d go, “Oh man, that sounds really bad, are you okay, have you talked to a doctor or someone about it, is something stressing you out, can I help”

or, in an illustration of this double-standard that actually happens in character: the night before the story opens, Seb did exactly what I just said, while Pete intended to go home and get a decent amount of sleep…… but while he was doing a last check on the costumes he’s supervising for the production of A Midsummer’s Night’s Dream that he’s involved in at work right now, he found several rips and missing buttons that no one mentioned to him

He figured it wouldn’t take him that long to fix everything, but he estimated very badly, and by the time he’d finished the task and gotten everything cleaned up again, it was late enough that he decided to crash on the couch in his boss’s office (because, considering the travel time, Pete could get more sleep by doing that than by going home), clean up in the bathroom and throw on one of the spare shirts that he keeps in his locker, then run out to grab breakfast, come back, and act like he totally had not slept in Mitch’s office last night

That worked out pretty well…… until Pete decided to take a follow-up nap during a stretch where he officially had a bit of spare time (“officially” meaning, “it wasn’t on any particular schedule, so technically, he was allowed, but lmao there is no such thing as spare time in the theatre, there just isn’t”)…… which got him told to go home and rest because Mitch would rather not do without his self-described, “Swiss Army thespian,” but if it’s a choice between sending Pete home for the afternoon and risking the chance that something’s amiss with Pete’s health and possibly losing him for at least a month while he goes to rehab again? ……Yeah, Mitch would take the former.

Either way, Pete still got more sleep than his Princess, and they swap stories about their respective low-sleep nights when they meet up at the gallery owned and run by their sponsor (Nick), where Stephen works as curatorial assistant

………and Seb is Concerned about Pete for losing track of time and nearly pulling an accidental all-nighter, but he doesn’t? really?? feel like??? there’s any reason???? for Pete????? to be concerned about him, Seb, having such bad insomnia that he wound up watching a marathon of Catching All-Stars reruns (despite how Seb doesn’t like that show and finds it uncomfortably voyeuristic) while baking a bunch of treats that he doesn’t personally enjoy, but he knows that his parents, Margot, Nick, and Nick’s husband Isaac all like them

(Catching All-Stars is sort of like what would happen if you took the a team of superheroes that’s like the unholy, commercialism-driven mashup of JLA, the Avengers, and Lance “Captain Amazing” Hunt from Mystery Men… and gave them a reality show that is so much like Keeping Up With The Kardashians that some people consider them to be rival shows.)

Because Seb totally understands that these kinds of things are, in general, Not Good. But see, if it’s him in any given situation like this, then his understanding of how Not Good things like this are goes right out the window because…… nope, it’s not a “real problem” if it’s happening to him, that makes no sense because of reasons

—and on the other hand, Seb is just…… depressingly ignorant about a lot of the realities of depression and what “depression” even means (in more than a very vague, “it is a mental illness and a ‘real problem,’ one of the worst ‘real problems’ that I can imagine personally, and you wouldn’t wish it on anybody unless you are a complete douchebag” sense)

If any of his friends or loved ones had ever been told that they were dealing with depression, you can bet that he would have read up on it a lot more and true, he still would’ve encountered some issues here (because of how so much information about all mental health issues is unreliable for one reason or another, and conflicting opinions in the sources [some of which are not reliable sources, but others of which are reliable and just have differences of opinion and approach because mental illness is complicated and difficult], and so on) — but at least Seb would not be quite so astoundingly ignorant about the illness that he’s been living with

Like, when Pete came back from rehab (which… well. He wanted to do an outpatient thing for his addictions — alcohol, Adderall, and cocaine — but his Mama disagreed and he needed her help paying for treatment, and Leilani went, “I feel like inpatient rehab would be better for you, and if you agree to go there, then I will make sure that you never need to worry about the cost of anything related to your treatment”)

—as I was saying.

When Pete came back from his trip to rehab, he’d done a lot of work on his problems with substance abuse, but he had also come to realize that he’d been dealing with anorexia nervosa for long enough that it was hard for him to remember when things had ever been different, which he hadn’t noticed for a lot of reasons

(chief among them: the unfortunately widespread belief that men don’t deal with eating disorders ever, especially not anorexia, because they are Lady Disorders For Women and anorexia nervosa is The Single Most Lady Disorder For Women Of Them All;

the fact that Pete’s presentation had never been as glaringly obvious as a stereotype-riddled Lifetime Original movie or Very Special Episode/Arc about EDs [which, unfortunately, does a lot of damage to people who don’t fit those images or don’t feel like they’re truly “sick enough” to have an ED because they’re “not as bad” as some character in some fictional representation of EDs];

and the fact that his disorder had developed so slowly that he — and everyone else in his life — looked at his symptoms and went, “that’s just some quirky Pete thing that he does that totally falls under the heading of average, non-disordered human variation, right?”)

Seb got to be the first person who heard about this, which would’ve happened even if he hadn’t picked Pete up at the airport because he’s the brother who Pete wishes he could have as a legal part of his family because Pete’s relationship with his biological brother is…… A Mess. And more than that, Pete’s Princess is the person with whom he has the easiest time being vulnerable, and doing things like, “being his most honest self, even when he feels like shit, or he feels ashamed of himself, or he wishes that he could be somebody else instead,” and “admitting when he’s terrified and wants to get well and be okay but he doesn’t know if he’s strong enough to do that” and, “just letting himself cry when he needs to”

But the more important thing is that, at the time Pete told him this and needed to cry and get reassurance from his best friend, Seb was similarly very ignorant about eating disorders.

He knew they existed, he knew they were bad, he knew the vague sketchy details about anorexia and bulimia (his biggest tidbit of knowledge was that he knew enough to differentiate between anorexia nervosa, anorexia mirabilis [i.e., “it’s complicated but there’s a whole wealth of mystical and spiritual writing about how some divine being or other told someone, like St. Catherine of Siena for example, not to eat because piety”], and, “anorexia as absence of appetite, which happens as a symptom of something other than anorexia nervosa”), and he kinda vaguely knew that guys could have eating disorders but largely only by virtue of personal experience

—by which I mean that one of his exes (Rémy) was an actor-slash-model and some of his guy friends or guy coworkers had dealt with EDs in some capacity, and, “well, Julian was never officially diagnosed with an eating disorder or anything, and in fairness here, he had a lot of habits that were all over the map and would’ve made diagnosing him properly really hard, but he had some people concerned about whether or not he had an ED at different points, and then he complained about it to Seb because haha that’s so ridiculous isn’t it but also god how could they think that about him, please agree with him now or at least pay attention to him”

—But when Pete got diagnosed with one in rehab, that was all the reason Seb needed to look into all the things, learn everything he could get his hands on, etc.. because his best friend needed him

But as it stands, none of the people he loves have ever gotten a depression diagnosis, so he remains quite ignorant about the illness he’s living with here

—That sorta got way off from the point, but…… really, depression is a big reason why Seb’s sleep habits are such a mess, and a huge part of the reason why he hasn’t treated them seriously or seen them as an “actual problem” (maybe a minor annoyance at best, but not a “real problem,” so much as, “a thing that happens to everyone and that Seb has to just deal with on his own because no one else would let something like this mess them up so badly” — he says, while he legit feels like what he’s saying is totally accurate, despite knowing that it isn’t even remotely true)…… has been the depression that is a major contributing factor to them in the first place

……Yay? (Not really. Not even a little bit.)

Another contributing factor is one of the potential long-term side-effects of kicking alcohol and opiates — like, it may not happen to absolutely everyone in a similar position to Seb, but both alcohol and opiates act as central nervous system depressants, and one of the more common effects of CNS depressants…… is making you sleepy (which is why, for example, I didn’t take most of the opioid painkiller that I got after dislocating my kneecap while doing the Time Warp in college, because I could handle the pain but could not handle sleeping through my classes).

(……that may be one of the most painfully nerdy things that I’ve ever said, but it remains true)

If you get used to having a shit-ton of CNS depressants in your system, then you can very easily end up with trouble sleeping, and unfortunately, it can continue for even years after you get sober (it doesn’t always, but it can). In Seb’s case, no one prepared him for that or told him that it could very well end up lasting even after he’d detoxed, and it was harder to notice when he was actually still in rehab because all of the therapy involved there took a lot out of him and let him sleep easier than he might’ve done otherwise

…and then, out of all his trips off the wagon in his first thirteen months of trying to stay sober, three of them were directly caused by Seb being torn between desperately wanting to stay sober, but also desperately wanting to fucking sleep (and preferably without any of the nightmares that can also be a long-term side-effect of abusing alcohol and/or opiates, and are exacerbated for Seb by the PTSD that he “totally doesn’t have, because people with real problems have PTSD, so stop devaluing their struggles by saying that Seb has it”)

(do you ever think about your own characters and just look at the camera like you’re on The Office? because I do. constantly. often with this particular human disaster right here.)

Um.

I feel like I had somewhere else I was going to go with this, but it’s wandered so far off of any semblance of an outline and I want to have lunch

So…… uh.

Something moderately less depressing to wrap-up with, I guess: bed-sharing with Seb can potentially be awkward for a lot of people because he is so unreasonably freaking tall, but if you ever want to sleep next to someone because it makes things easier for you to sleep, or you need cuddles, or whatever, Sebastian is a good, sweet cuddler and a very respectful bed-sharer who will probably also make you breakfast

You may need to deal with Lola deciding that she totally fits in the bed too, or being kind of huffy at you because excuse you, but no, see, she is supposed to sleep in the bed with her Person, not you (like, she’s only less of a huffy little shit to Margot and Pete about it because she likes them and she can usually manage to fit into the bed with them there)

He also has a somewhat easier time of sleeping if he’s sharing with someone, but it’s not entirely a magical, “press this button to fix insomnia for the entire evening” thing

Also, breakfast

He will make it for you

……I should really go have lunch now, jeez

[tytearjerker]

October 27th, 2017: Love and the Journey to Getting Better

This is my first blog post on this account. What this account will be is a (hopefully) weekly mental health blog that i share my personal thoughts, emotions, and progress towards getting better. I will possibly post small tidbits throughout the week or maybe daily. It really depends on what type of day it is for me. Now for the first post of hopefully many:

I’ve noticed, after being graduated for about a 6 months and having quite a few issues going on in my life, that I regret the memories i did not make as a teenager. I feel like we spend so much time trying to conspire against our peers and create this persona, however it may be, that we really forget to appreciate the way our lives are and the people we have in it.

I personally regret not allowing my close friends to take care of me when i was having a horrible depression in high school; not reminding them that i loved them and going out to create the memories that ill cherish into my 30′s. Even with the one person i created extremely intense and happy memories with i still regret some things. I regret not being the man i wanted to be, but could not at the time. The fact that i never danced at a school dance, enjoy the sunny days at amusement parks, and just spend time out in public with her. I think its fair to say that i feel as if i disappointed not only that one special person, but an entire era of friends and family. I wish i told them that i loved them, and honestly i think i always wait till it’s too late to say that. I think that deep down inside i hope they have it in their hearts to love me; to not see me as a burden. 

Love is a weird thing. I can say that I love quite a bit in my life and that, despite my melancholy appearance and personality, i thrive off giving the people i deeply care about love. I love with my entire heart and it never lessens. I was confused when i was younger on what that feeling was; the love that i had deep in my chest that wrenched and strangled me when i would exit my bus to the breakfast table. I was confused that it was infatuation; maybe that it was possibly just temporary. Time was all it took for me to realize that this was simply that, love. That it was the joy of caring. That yes, love its worry. Love is being scared and caring about someone. That love is being uncertain. That love isn’t always perfect and sappy. Love is what you feel when you wake up from a text from that person. That feeling of wanting to hear about their day, their relationships, what they are afraid of, and what they desire. Its complicated. Love is a combination of elements; Fear, Bliss, spite, uncertainty, and so much more that i cant begin to describe. 

It’s the fear of wondering “am i good enough. Will it last. Will i ever be able to express it? Will i ever be able to give you the world?”. It’s rational to have these fears, because in the end i do not believe its entirely achievable to give that person the love that you personally think they deserve. It’s the Bliss of affection, late night talks, binge watching shows, enjoying meals, and the general feeling of knowing that in your life you have someone that endlessly supports you. That they care about you. That they want to see you become the best you even at the worst you. That they are willing to stick through with you till you’re old. Maybe that is an immature view of it all. It wouldn’t be out of my character to make immature comments like such. That bliss is where the spite comes from. The spite of not knowing if you will ever love like that again, the answer is simple; you will, you still are, and you always will. Love doesn’t end. I do not think ill ever be out of love with the people in my life. The intensity of that love shifts from person to person. However, being angry and spiteful, although maybe justified and valid, is in the end immature. It’s selfish. I believe that knowing you had those memories and love is a privilege. Some people will never experience what i had with someone. How dare that be destroyed with short term feelings? The future is inconceivable. However i think a future with the people i love is a future i want to have. This is all where that uncertainty rests in. The uncertainty of life and love.

The sad thing about me is that i have a hard time recognizing this love sometimes. Ever since i was a child I've had a tough time letting myself express and be loved. I always love to hard and long. I always reject the love i’m given. However, i’m getting better. Over the past year I've let myself be loved. I’ve let myself love. The feelings I've had about suicide and destruction are halted by the thought of knowing the worry that my friends and family have of me. The simple fact is that i want to be here tomorrow. Not just for me, but for the love. For the people in my life to see me be who i can and succeed like i wish for everyone, especially her. These days are hard. I have to remind myself that it’s okay to have them. I want to live. I want to be at a place that makes her, my friends, and my family proud. Not just for them, but for me. I do not want to be sick or the rest of my life. I am excited to keep these relationships. I am excited to have healthy relationships, and damn me I am trying.

I’ll be staying here for a while and ill be here tomorrow. I am not going anywhere. Not quite yet.

[shmkxx-blog]

Untitled.

Right, so I need to sort my shit out. I don’t think anybody can live like this. It feels like a million thoughts rushing through my head at the same time. It becomes unbearable and they are all just that; thoughts. I need to break the cycle, before it breaks me.... before it breaks us. It sounds crazy, but for the first time in my life, I have met someone who sees under my mask without taking it off, and yet I am still afraid. I say that I’ve moved on and that I have gotten over everything that I have been through so far in my life, but I’m starting to think that I’m lying to myself. I need to get to the bottom of why it still affects me and why it still has a hold of me. Perhaps I need to start from the very beginning and work my way through my timeline, despite how painful this could be to bring to the surface. I suppose the more that I bottle it, the more the pressure builds, and that’s why I experience these emotional outbursts, so let’s try something new, something completely different.  Growing up, I had a pretty happy childhood, it just took me a long time to remember those types of memories because all I seemed to hold onto were the ones that make me freeze, that make me fearful and scared and unable to trust. My dad had a temper that often got out of control and as hard as it is for me to write this, I was no stranger to physical violence from him. I think he has blocked out that time in his life too, because the dad I had then, is a completely different person to the dad I have now.  My house was constantly filled with screaming, shouting, crying, the sounds of slapping, hitting and hyperventilating.  My parents went through a very unamicable divorce when I was 10 of which I was thrown in the middle. My dad and his family turned very nasty towards me. It’s sickening thinking of everything that they did to me. They criticized the way I looked, would corner me with a hand raised, threatening me. They swore at me. I was told on several occasions that I was a mistake, I was never wanted and that my mum should have got rid. This went on for 4 years, and by the time I turned 14, I was depressed. I started having anxiety attacks at school which would involve frequent visits from paramedics and trips to the hospital because I would lose consciousness. At this point, I cut contact with my dads family including my siblings and suddenly felt very alone and unloved. I think being at a pinnacle point of my life where hormones and emotions were flying around, it was one huge mess. Just as I got rid of my bullying family, I started getting bullied at school, physically, verbally, emotionally, mentally. I remember looking at myself in the mirror and seeing someone I didn’t recognise, like I was in there somewhere but it was so deeply hidden it was barely visible. I remember getting some nail scissors and cutting myself. It wasn’t deep, I knew it wouldn't scar, but I found that physical pain was easier to cope with than the emotional pain I was feeling inside. This bullying went on until I finished sixth form. It was never-ending for another 4 years, despite intervention by my mum and stepdad and also teachers, it carried on, even outside of the school gates. I grew too exhausted to fight it and just pretended it had been sorted.  When I was 18, I went off to university. It was supposed to be such an exciting time for me, I was starting my career as a childrens nurse, something I had wanted to do for a long time. I felt like my life could suddenly take off, but the euphoria was short lived, as the bullying started all over again. Even worse that I lived with them in the same student flat. Every night was spent in floods of tears, I had my belongings defaced and destroyed, the kitchen wall tiles were covered in marker pen, horrible names, mockery, disgusting drawings of me that I would have to clean off. They would bang constantly on my bedroom door chanting at me. Once again I looked in the mirror, and the person staring back was ghosting. Finally after 6 months, I went to the doctor who diagnosed me with severe depression and anxiety and I packed up my belongings, packed up my course, and returned home. I lost a lot of weight, i suddenly became obsessed with my weight and started making myself sick and taking strong laxatives. I started self harming again but this time it was intense and noticeable. I started smoking and drinking heavily. I became somebody that I never thought I could. I got into my first lesbian relationship, and it wasn’t me. I convinced myself that it was, but I wasn’t gay, I just tried to make changes in my life, anything that could bring some happiness where possible. I was searching in all the wrong places for all the wrong things. This girl encouraged my depression, she encouraged my self harm and even spoke about assisted suicide where we would take an overdose together. I became very emotionally disturbed to the point I started having seizures. They were psychological. My brain activity would get too hyper, my anxiety would flare, my heart would race, and I would find myself on the floor fitting.  Then I ran away. Well not exactly, I didn’t just up and leave, I needed a new start. I got myself a new job in Sidmouth, Devon and I moved down here nearer to my grandparents. It was a place I had been holidaying to since I was 6 years old. It was like home. Life seemed to be getting better, days seemed easier to manage. I was sleeping better, eating better, but the problem with running away is that your problems follow you wherever you go, because they’re inside your head. I met David. At first everything was amazing. He was loving, kind, supportive and he gave me the confidence boost I needed. He appeared when everything started going down hill again. I had started getting my seizures again, even whilst at work. Hospital became my home from home. Finally I was diagnosed with PNES (Psychological Non Epileptic Seizures). In short, my body cannot hand certain levels of stress and anxiety, so it shuts down. David was there through it all.  We fell pregnant twice between Aug 2011 and March 2012, both ended in miscarriages which were even more destructive to my mental health. During this time, I was finally diagnosed with Borderline Personality Disorder. This means that you have to have at least 5 of the following behaviours (I had all): Extreme reactions to feeling abandoned. Unstable relationships with others. Confused feelings about who you are. Being impulsive in ways that could be damaging. For example, spending, sex, substance abuse, reckless driving, and binge eating Regular self-harming, suicidal threats or behaviour. Long lasting feelings of emptiness or being abandoned. Difficulty controlling your anger. For example, losing your temper or getting into fights. Intense, highly changeable moods. Paranoid thoughts when you’re stressed. The way I am isn’t my fault, I was born this way. It just needed some trauma to trigger it. What causes BPD?

‘It is not clear exactly what causes BPD. There are different factors that can lead to someone getting borderline personality disorder (BPD). The main causes seem to be the following’: Traumatic childhood. You might have experienced difficulties in your childhood. This could include neglect or being abandoned by a parent. Or physical, emotional or sexual abuse. Brain problems. You might have slight differences in your brain. Genetics. Some research shows that BPD may be passed on through genes. But there is no clear evidence that there is a gene that causes BPD.

It gave me some clarification in understanding myself and why I was experiencing the emotions I had. I was put on a medication called Quetiapine, which would help with the anxiety and keeping my psychosis under its peak. Not long after I went on it, we fell pregnant again in August 2012. It had been something we both wanted and we were very happy and excited especially when we had, had the 12 week scan to show everything was as normal and it was highly unlikely that I would miscarry. I still had the pain of losing my 2 previous babies, I still do now to some degree. It becomes more manageable.  My pregnancy had a few complications, but overall was a smooth, happy and exciting time. I couldn’t wait to be a mother. The day that Oliver was born, was the best day of my life. After losing two babies, I finally had one that was warm, and crying and suckling against me, and he was all mine. The first few days were an incredible experience. David was a fantastic hands on dad, he would help me with the night feeds, he would watch Oliver so I could get my head down. We were a happy family and then on day 4, my brain switched. I’m not sure what triggered it, but I was suddenly unable to be anywhere near my child. I couldn’t look at him, I couldn’t do anything for him, I couldn’t even be in the same room as him. I became severely mentally ill. I was sectioned into a psychiatric facility and then moved on to a mum and baby unit. I was self harming and attempting suicide. On discharge, I was put under social services and Oliver was a child in need. I had to work hard for him not to be put into foster care and adopted. This drew a huge wedge between me and David. He was having to look after a newborn baby on his own, and I knew he was bitter. I started group therapy. It didn’t seem to help at first, but after a few sessions, I noticed a difference, I started recognising my triggers, and learning to accept the bad days when they came around. I started being able to bond with Oliver. I started being able to give him a quick cuddle, and then I started to give him a bottle, then change a nappy. They brought in a care worker to work with me and help me with my relationship with Oliver. When Oliver turned 6 months old, I had worked so hard to repair everything that social services closed my case and I became unsupervised and able to be a responsible parent for my own child. It was the best christmas present I could have asked for. As my relationship with Oliver improved, my relationship with David deteriorated. He didn’t want to be involved with either of us. He would rather go out with friends, sleep and game. Yet still, I decided to marry him on 7th June 2014. I immaturely thought that it would make things ok again. At first it did. Our relationship was great, and then as the honeymoon wore off, all of our problems just reared their ugly heads. I started finding conversations to other people about how he didn’t want to be with me anymore, I found emails to other girls, off of craigslist and porn sites wanting to meet up for casual sex no strings attached, I then started finding bags of powder around the bedroom and snorting equipment. I wasn’t stupid, I knew what he was doing, and I felt that I only had myself to blame. I would ask him, and he would fob me off with stupid excuses, often getting verbally abusive with me, which would then cause me to shut down and apologise for my behaviour. Seems crazy really when I knew what he was doing. I was apologising for challenging his infidelity and drug taking. Things became a lot worse between us, the abuse became more frequent as was his sickening behaviour. The abuse became more frequent, it became verbal, emotional and physical, and he started to blackmail me. He would also throw in my face about me being a crap mother who couldn’t even touch her own baby or look at him. Something I was trying to get over. It all came to a head in September 2016 when I returned from America. Oliver was being quite difficult and causing me a lot of stress trying to get to bed. I could tell that David had, had a few drinks and I thought he had probably taken something... he had pushed me and grabbed oliver by the neck of his clothing and started screaming in his face, Oliver started crying and saying he was scared, David then grabbed him and threw him across the bed, his head narrowly missing the wall. All I can hear in my head to this day is ‘daddy no, daddy please don’t, daddy im scared’ over and over. David then thumped him, right on his back and growled to the side of his face like he was an animal. At this point I was in floods of tears, trying to get my child to cuddle him, but David was snarling at me. Then the doorbell went and the neighbour had come round concerned. He saw the look on my face, he had heard oliver’s crying and fear, and he wanted me to leave and get rid of David. So that night, I did, I waited until David was asleep, packed our bags and Oliver and I were greeted by my parents in the car as we snuck out the house. There was no looking back after that. I felt alone, and unloved and deserving of all the pain and suffering because it was all I had ever really knew.  On top of this, my granma who had been my support and my rock, passed away when Oliver was 2 weeks old from an aortic anerysm. It was sudden, and it turned my life into deeper turmoil. 

My biggest fear is it happening all over again, even though this time I know that it won’t. I’m scared of trusting, I’m scared of being loved, because it never usually works out for me, but if I want to be happy, I have to put all of this aside and move on. I can’t keep revisiting this as a setback, otherwise I will never learn to be happy. I can’t keep holding onto what I went through. I can give that advice to other people, but when it comes to taking it myself, I have a hard time digesting that information. The truth is, I CAN be happy now. I have a beautiful relationship with my son, which I was scared wouldn’t happen after our experience. I have a roof over my head, and I provide for both of us. I have the most loving and caring boyfriend a girl could ever ask for. I am so very lucky that he is in my life. I have a loving and supportive family unit who will always be there for me. My relationship with my dad and his family is even fixed. I have a fantastic best friend who is like a brother to me, and we have been there for each other through thick and thin and I know he’s not going anywhere.  Ultimately, I have so much going for me, that some people could only dream of. I need to start accepting and appreciating what I have and stop looking back to what I didn’t. So that’s what I’m going to do, this passage was a way of me getting everything down and off of my chest so that I can move on from all of this. So that it doesn’t have a hold over me, so that I can start to enjoy life and see everything as a learning curve. I wish I wasn’t as sensitive as I am, but I am and I can’t change that, it’s part of my personality, but what I can change is my outlook on everything. I need to be more positive and wake up each day feeling lucky and happy. Ryan says I have nothing to worry about and nothing to fear, so I’m going to start trusting him, and not fearing it, because I love him. I love him more than I’ve ever loved anybody in that way. We have a beautiful connection and I would be an idiot to break that and throw it away, all because of insecurities that are based on past events which I can’t change. I can’t change the past, I can change the now, so that’s what I’m going to do, change the now. Because the now is where I want to be, building a future with Ryan, Lilia and Oliver. That’s all I want. The simple life. Just us. Because having that, makes me the luckiest girl in the world.