#or just ignore it who knows. anyways this disorder is bullshit and i hate that people romanticise it

[steakout-05]

eeuuaghh i would like everyone to know that i apologise if i have not responded to your reblogs/mentions/posts on tumblr, i have really terrible social anxiety and for some reason people talking to me makes my nervous system think i'm being hunted for sport by a resident evil boss. sorry if i havent responded i'm not being rude i'm just having a panic attack :P

additionally: social anxiety is actually the reason why a lot of my old posts from late 2022 had weird spacing and spelling mistakes. i was too anxious to type properly

[anti-endo-safe-space]

I am for real over all this syscourse bullshit. I’m not even going to argue with endos on whether they’re valid or not, idc. What I’m sick of is endos inserting themselves into our spaces, co-opting the language we use, and making every goddamn thing about them. We started this account just to find community with other CDD systems so we didn’t feel so alone and can escape the constant cycles of denial. But it seems like every other post is endo this, endo that no matter what filters we use and accounts we block. Endos whine about how they are so oppressed when in reality they are the ones invading our spaces and making shit about them. So many of us struggle every day with CPTSD symptoms and triggers and just want to build a community that understands us and our disorder. But then endos bust in and call everyone “sysmeds” (not a thing) for wanting to remain in traumagenic system spaces only. At first we wanted to be pro-endo because we didn’t want to deny anyone’s experience, and also somewhat believe that some endos are in denial about their trauma. After having enough with all the endo bullshit we decided to consider ourselves endo neutral. But endos consistently throw a fit if you are let adamantly in support of them, thus once again making everything about them. So now we don’t know. “Anti-Endo” seems so harsh to us, when we want to accept everyone. Honestly, if they didn’t actively cause harm to CDD systems and our spaces, we’d have no issue with them. While logically a system forming without trauma doesn’t make any sense to me, I’m not going to argue with them over their validity. I don’t know everything and don’t understand their experience so who am I to say shit. I just wish they could keep to themselves, create their own community, make up their own terminology, and not force their way into spaces not meant for them. If that makes us “anti-endo” so be it. We’re sick of it.

Anyways this is just a straight up rant, so feel free to ignore it. We just had to get some things off our chest and thought maybe this was a good place to do so. If not we sincerely apologize.

Hey we fully get you. We wouldn't have even made this had our main blog not started getting hate from endos all the time, we were content staying out of it until endos started coming after us.

Endos do tend to have an issue of claiming their some of the most oppressed meanwhile if a system mentions they have trauma they ignore them and steal names used for transphobes/radqueers as a "haha fuck you" thing.

No issues with not wanting to argue, the arguing can take too much stress to do.

Hey this account exists for anything system related, especially vents because sometimes we need them.

Please take care

[thatuselesshuman]

!Warning! This is a wee bit of a rant so don't read if you're looking for my usual haha funny 😁👉👈

Pls tell me I'm not the only one who hates when people ask "what's wrong?" Like, shit, trust me when I say I don't know myself any better than you do. If it's anything but physical, then your guess is as good as mine. "Oh why are you so non-confrontational right now? You're usually fine with that kind of thing." Good question! Have any guesses? As far as I can tell you is that the thought of asking that waitress for the fries that was supposed to come with my meal makes me want to die, and you needling me about it makes me want to take initiative and do it myself. Being perceived makes me want to tear my skin off rn so please don't perceive me (with love).

I've been ignoring all that for the sake of optimism and pushing through the bullshit for so long, that at this point I'm just hoping that it'll resolve itself through the grace of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. It is so long past the point where i need to sort my shit out that I'm not sure it's worth it/doable. It's like not knowing how to cross multiply for 8 years in school and it's coming back to bite you in the ass later, but you'll be damned before you learn cause you've gotten this far (real life events for me). When you've been bullshitting for so long, it's way messier to actually fix it and learn than to just continue with what you were doing.

This is the same reason why I don't want to go to the doctor for any of the mental disorders my family is downright convinced I have. ADHD? Na not me bro, must be someone else you're looking for. Autism? Nope. I know how I think and I'm not like that. Did I take an online test that told me otherwise? Yeah but those things are ass most of the times anyways, can't trust them. Plus, my life is perfectly fine without any of that so, as far as I'm concerned, I'll live my life without ever knowing.

Moral of the story: if I ever went to therapy, I'd probably make my therapist quit 💀

[jonesy-and-max]

Jonesy & Max: Opening Day

part 2: Commute

The screen door banged against the house as Jonesy pushed her way out into the world. She was flustered and her face was still warm from her quality family time. She put on her headphones and cranked the volume up on her Walkman. Why did Gina have to turn into such an asshole, she thought. I miss Karl. Not only was her older brother fun to be around and would always stand up for her, but he also put the whole house in a good mood when he was around. Sure, her mom and dad completely ignored her and lavished all their attention on Karl, but it was a nice break from their bullshit. They were so laser focused on him, that she could get away with just about anything. That’s not to say Karl enjoyed the spotlight. He would find any reason to get out of the house and he would charitably bring his sisters in tow. They’d get a burger or go to the movies, sometimes he’d take them to the ice rink and they’d just hang out skating all day, playing in the arcade, and eating cheese fries. It was the only time Gina would become bearable to be around for more than five minutes. I just don’t fucking get it. What the fuck did I ever do to her? She started to feel the familiar sting of tears before taking a deep, cleansing breath and losing herself in the intoxicating vocals of Dolores O'Riordan.

A dirty white van with a navy blue, unpainted door rumbled behind her and slowed down to meet her pace. The window creaked open and from the dark interior smoke drifted into the sky, a raspy voice called to her from within.

“Hey there little girl, you wanna suck on my Blow Pop?”

Startled, Jonesy turned to see the stranger and promptly rolled her eyes. 

“Dickface! You freaked me out for a second!” She smiled and laughed, pulling her headphones down around her neck. She threw a gum wrapper from her pocket at Max, who had an elbow hanging out the window, taking a drag from his cigarette. 

“I really do have candy though,” He stops the van, letting Jonesy jump into the passenger side seat. She took the cigarette from his mouth between two fingers and took a drag, unwrapping a Lemonhead in the process. 

She passed the butt back to Max and put her feet up on the dash, Max glanced at her from the corner of his eye. 

“Hey, Jonesy. You good?”

Jonesy flipped down the mirror, checking her makeup, teeth, and eyebrows in an effort to avoid the question and any eye-contact that might give her away.

“Yeah, Max. Sure. You know, whatever. Just Dad this morning, won’t shut up about college. And of course Gina’s just a massive fucking asshole. So, you know, just another Jones family breakfast.”

“I thought you didn’t care about college.” Max raised an eyebrow.

“I don’t!” She popped the mouthpiece off of her inhaler, revealing it to be a secret pipe. Reaching into her backpack she found the small, ornate change purse that carried her weed, “It’s a waste of time. I fucking hate school, and sports, and all that bullshit. But Dad’s like, ‘I just want you to explore all your options Twizzlebug.” She mocked him with a pretty dead-on Droopy Dog impression, then proceeded to take a long hit from her makeshift bowl.

Max laughed, pointing at Jonesy, “Bwaaaahahahahaha Twizzlebug, you fuckin’ chode.”

“Your mom’s a chode,” Jonesy said through the smoke escaping from her lips, flipped Max off and threw the Lemonhead wrapper at him.

Max chomped at the air, pretending to try and catch the wrapper in his mouth. Smirking at his pal, Max held his pointer finger up. “Ok. Number one: fuck those fuckin’ dildos, dude. Numero dos: You an’ me are forgin’ our own path out in the world! School and shit was never our thing and it fuckin’ sucked dick anyway. Fact-o number-o three-o: Gina has some kind of personality disorder or something, so she can suck a huge fuck. You are the raddest motherfucker alive and she is clearly just jealous of you. And number C: We’ve got all we could ask for: workin’ at Popcorn Video rules ass, we got roofs over our heads, we got a rad as fuck band, and today is a fucking legendary day!!”

“Hell, yeah, dude!” said Jonesy, bright eyed and feeling the vibes again. 

“Chain-Slaughter 6! FOREVER GORE!” They growled in unison. Max punched the ceiling of the van, Jonesy drumming the dashboard with her fists.

No matter how shitty her family made her feel, being with Max just made everything feel right again. 

--

Jonesy and Max had known each other since Kindergarten, more specifically, since recess of Kindergarten. It had only been a couple weeks in, but Max had gained a reputation for being a feral little monster. He was a Tasmanian devil, always dressed in either overalls or a brown jumpsuit, a whirling dervish of destruction and mayhem. They eventually had to make him wear a note that said “I Bite.” It was out on the playground that Jonesy, though not yet “Jonesy,” wearing her Strawberry Shortcake hat and oversized sweater, made her approach. She had watched him, fascinated, since the first day of school. One time she had seen a raccoon eating a half eaten peanut butter and jelly in their garbage can in the middle of the night. She watched it eat that sandwich and scrounge around for more tasty treats for almost an hour. She didn’t know how to express it, but she got the same feeling watching this little boy. That morning she had asked her mom to make her an extra pb&j to take to school, telling her it was for “making a friend.” She took the sandwich from under her sweater and cautiously moved closer to the little boy. He was digging a hole with his hands in an out of sight area on the playground and didn’t want to startle him. She softly said “hello” and took the sandwich from the zip lock baggie. The boy turned and growled, he had one fang-like tooth that only charmed Jonesy more, as she held the pb&j out towards him. He leaned forward to sniff the sandwich, keeping his eyes on the little girl the entire time. He snatched the sandwich and sat in the hole he had made. 

“My name’s-”

“Jones!” He pointed at her. “Jones girl. You live by the lot. I seen you.” His mouth full of sandwich.

He was right, she lived by the vacant lot where kids liked to play baseball, or have fights, or smash stuff, it was kind of a catch all location for unsupervised kid events. She was more surprised he could talk than she was that he knew stuff about her. He hadn’t spoken in class at all except for growls, barks, and an occasional howl.

“Yeah! You’re Max, right?” She watched him eat the sandwich, and couldn’t believe how much he resembled that raccoon. She sat on the ground, “Why’re ya diggin’ a hole?”

“Holes are cool!” He shrugged. He licked the peanut butter and jelly on his hands. He grinned and suddenly planted his sticky hand right in the middle of Jonesy’s face. She fell back and Max’s face turned from mad glee to concern. He knew he did something stupid, again. A little chuckle, and then a full laugh burst from the little girl.

“Eww! Hahaha!” She laughed, a pb&j handprint smack dab in the middle of her face.

Max’s face went from confusion, then spread to a big smile, he smacked his own face with his gooey hands, making Jonesy crack up all over again. The two of them laughed until the teacher noticed them, a feeling of dread came over her.

--

“So, do we have a plan?” Jonesy asked between a couple coughs.

Max smiled and raised an eyebrow in Jonesy’s direction, “Of course we have a plan! When we get out of work we head directly to Snap-Mart, grab supplies, and then jet over to the theater and get in line by five thirty.”

“Five thirty’s a little late…”

“I know I know I know, but we have to stop for food, plus Azrael’s working tonight, so he’ll definitely let us get some beers.”

“Barf, Azrael’s gonna be there?”

“What’s wrong with Azrael? Yeah, I mean, he’s a goth, but we’ve never held that against him.”

“I’m just getting...puppy vibes from him lately.”

“Bwahaha!”

“It’s not funny! Ever since I saved him from that rampaging troll, it’s like a switch got flipped and now I get the gaga eyes every time we hang out with him.” Jonesy flicked her BIC and took a final drag.

“The troll? Oh man, DnD doesn’t get better than that moment, dude. Nah, I get it.”

“Oh, gag!” She coughed out a large cloud in horror.

“I mean, he’s a big fucking nerd, and you’re a bad ass motherfucker. I’m just saying, I’m not surprised. Not to mention you’re a girl that acknowledges his existence. Plus, you know…it’s not like you’ve let anybody else in on your little secret.”

Jonesy punched Max’s arm.

“I’m just saying, it would actually be less of a rejection if you were just like, ‘dude, I like chicks!”

“Good to know! I always forget I can pull that one out of my back pocket whenever I need to get a weird nerd off my back.” She rolled down the window and tapped the refuse out of the pipe, snapping it back on the rest of the inhaler.

“I’m just sayin’ is all!”

Max pulled his van into the parking lot of the strip mall where Popcorn Video resided, taking a spot near the parking lot light across from the store. Jonesy hopped out and spit.

“Max, your van stinks.”

“Yeah, you were just smoking in there, duh-doy.”

“No, dillweed, like you use Eau de Onion as an airfreshner. You’d be lucky if the smell of my bud could eliminate the ghosts of farts past that haunt that shit machine.”

“Uh sorry to shatter your world, muchacho, but you actually stink. You brought it in with you, and you carry it through life.”

“The van stinks because you stink your van up. I don’t sleep in a nest of my crusty undies.”

“Have you smelled you today?”

“Have you taken a whiff of your person today, good sir?”

“No actually I have not, smart-ass.”

“Well, neither have I.”

They both furrowed their brows and considered the moment. Max sniffed his armpits. Jonesy pulled the neck of her shirt forward and sniffed into it.

“...I’m beginning to think, like, we, as a pair? We might not smell great.”

Max raised an eyebrow and nodded, grabbing an air freshener from his glove box and rubbing it on his pits.

Jonesy adjusted the crotch of her acid wash, black skinny jeans, “We’ll circle back to that at a later date.”

Max nodded emptily and rifled through his jacket pocket for the key to the video store.

[piplupod]

®

[transmasc-wizard]

psssst psssssssssstttttt

talk about the ableism and saneism in the writblr community. it needs to be talked about (i would help but wordnt)

thank u for the motivation!! also i hope 1) wordn't becomes wordy, and/or 2) u have a pleasant time while wordn't

anyway

god where do i start. This is probably going to be messy and angry and not the super convenient nice happy disabled person but GOD i'm so fucking tired lmao

starting. starting. Ah! i'll start with this: I am autistic, and the people who diagnosed me also generally agreed I have some form of anxiety. (I'm also currently figuring out if I'm struggling with depression.) I don't have first-hand experience with being physically disabled, and I am not every neurodiversity ever.

So, that's the standpoint I'm coming from in regards to first-hand experience; talking about disabilities I don't have will just be me repeating what I've seen around, as well as me taking experience of my own and applying it to similar situations (e.g. the demonization of low empathy hurts autistic people. I know why, as an autistic. Similarly, it hurts pwPDs).

With that out of the way, let's continue.

WHUMP

I'm just gonna say it. I fucking hate the wider whump community on writblr. I follow a few whump accounts and I like them, but most of the whump community is a toxic, saneist, ableist hellscape.

I have seen whump prompt blogs call characters who don't speak "perfectly broken". What do they think of nonverbal autistics?

I have seen them treat PTSD like a wonderful thing to inflict on their characters. What about the people with c-PTSD and PTSD who are reading that?

I have seen them describe sexual assault and the trauma disorders it can cause in one of their "fun whump prompts" lists--completely untagged with any sort of warning that, you know, REAL PEOPLE with REAL TRAUMA might have backlisted to avoid it.

I have seen something that was literally just the description of an autistic meltdown, minus any reference to the word autism, and say "this is so satisfying to write". (From an allistic person.)

I have seen whump blogs use physical disability as a perfect method of torture, treating blindness, deafness, amputated limbs, & chronic pain as the perfect curse to inflict on their characters--I don't know who has to fucking hear this, but physically disabled people are not some pitiable animals. They're people, and they're on tumblr, and they can read what you're saying about their disablities.

Additionally, the way people describe their whumpers sometimes... delusional, psycho, psychotic, sociopathic, narcissistic, "void of empathy", etc etc etc. DID YOU KNOW THOSE ARE REAL THINGS THAT REAL PEOPLE ARE. There are people with ASPD, psychosis, low empathy, and NPD on tumblr. They don't deserve to see that shit.

& like. @ whump blogs. Do you post your stories in the touch-averse tag? If so... stop. Us touch averse folk don't need our tag invaded by horrific stories and prompts about touch aversion being ignored and abused. Find another tag.

All in all, the whump community has a giant problem of treating mental illness, trauma, and disabilities like either 1) nothing but imaginary scenarios to put whumpees through, or 2) perfect traits for their evil, abusive whumper.

THE REST OF WRITBLR

I wanted to highlight a couple of my issues with whumpblr specifically, but the rest of writblr is by no means exempt from this bullshit.

First of all, the "describing your antagonist as unempathetic/psychotic/sociopathic/a narcissist/crazy" thing is Not something that non-whump writblrs are immune to. I'll put it simply: I am hypoempathetic. I do not experience empathy. If you equate hypoempathy to being a fucking serial killer or some shit, I am blocking you. Same with the things I don't have.

Next: trauma and depression.

I won't pretend that every joke about traumatizing your OCs is evil. Neither is joking about giving them depression (less common but still there). But the overarching trend of treating trauma & depression itself like a joke, about treating trauma and depressive disorders like fun little things that come with the plot and not like actual things people live with, is harmful.

I have struggled with depression. I am an autistic teen. 60% of autistic adults have PTSD just from growing up autistic, because it's often such a traumatizing experience. I do not feel safe in a community that treats depression & trauma like a joke.

now: "character flaws"

literally please stop calling obvious ND traits "character flaws". It is not that hard. "paranoid" "blunt" "odd" "unempathetic" "crazy" (what the fuck does that even mean to you) "hyperactive" "bad memory" straight up "hallucinates" and "depressed".... shut up, shut up, i hate you, shut up.

No, I'm not saying these things are all perfect and harmless and fun traits that never impact anyone. But flaws are traits that you're supposed to dislike about a character. A character having a paranoid anxiety disorder should not make you dislike them. A character being "odd" via displaying autistic traits should not make you dislike them. Flaws are things like being cheap, cruel, ignoring the needs of others, being a liar, being bigoted, etc. And... yeah! Some things you can list as flaws are also ND traits! Bc not all ND traits are that great! But like... lots are not flaws, they're just unusual to society. Something like "isn't NT" is not a character flaw. It's just not. Being neurodivergent is not something a character should have to make up for.

(bonus points (/s) to lists that give things like "always tired" and "difficulty moving quickly" as character flaws! You've managed to hurt physically disabled and/or chronically ill people, too <3)

coding villains as/making them canonically disabled, and/or just straight up ignoring the existence of disability

the writblr community is really diverse with their characters, and that's nice. But disability is... often hard to find? in abled people's work? Either they'll have the token ADHDer, one vaguely pitiable dude in a wheelchair, or the horrifically stereotyped autistic, or they'll code their villain as some sort of neurodivergent/chronically ill.

No one has to make disabled characters. Your story is your story. But it feels shitty to be left out of everything unless fellow disabled people made it.

Example for the coding thing: if your villain has difficulty connecting to people, is blunt, doesn't lie very well, is monotone, has "unsettling" or blank facial expressions, is awkward in the way they act, dislikes people, has very rigid thought patterns, is extremely stubborn, follows their personal set of rules to a T, is a loner, is very very intent on their goal/main interest, and seems to have trouble socializing "typically", or hits a lot of those things, congrats! they're autistic. That is a person I would 100%, without a doubt, think "oh, that's me" about. (That's just one neurodiversity; I see a LOT of villains coded as having antisocial personality disorder or narcissistic personality disorder in particular.)

There's also, like. if your villain uses a mobility aid, has scars, is canonically ND, etc and is the only one out of your cast who is, that's ableism. You should feel bad. Full stop. It's not hard to keep yourself from connecting disability & mental illness to villainy.

Also, side note. People's autistic characters often tire me. Because they'll have one profile of a character they say isn't ND and they're like "she's an artist who's OBSESSED with her craft, she's pretty socially awkward, she calms down in dark lonely spaces, she has difficulty communicating, she doesn't really understand social norms" and then their autistic character will be Sheldon Cooper 2.0.

using outdated/wrong terminology

maybe i'm just in the wrong circles but like. "asperger's" "multiple personality disorder" "person with autism" "psychopathic" literally what. stop that. no. (In order: autism, DID, autistic, antisocial personality disorder.)

fetishizing, romanticizing, stereotyping, and generally misrepresenting

your anxious character isn't an uwu sad small bean (like, literally stop, anxiety is hell). depression doesn't make good art. the autistic character does not have to be a super genius. your character in a wheelchair isn't a tragedy. blind people aren't super-wise sages. Etc, etc, etc.

in conclusion (not actually concluding)

i'm not done, i'm just feeling my weak grip on words slowly starting to slip away. Wordn't is coming upon me, too. hashtag quirky autism things!

Anyway, if other disabled people want to add on--ESPECIALLY those with personality disorders, psychotic disorders, and physical disabilities--i'm saying please do. I want to hear other people's experiences.

I love writblr, but it's very, very common for me as an autistic mentally ill person to feel uncomfortable with the way characters are treated & handled.

Just... listen to us? please?

that's all for now, i guess.

[ablednt]

is “empath” a term with any real meaning outside of like, pseudopsychology? a friend’s therapist told them they might be an empath and idk whether to be concerned or not

Definitely be concerned.

Okay so empath as far as I know started in new age/witchcraft circles as a "spiritual belief" and normally I say let people believe what they want but this is specifically the part of that community that is primarily cis white women and they’d be like "🥺 I'm an empath my spiritual gift is empathy which means I'm just TOO NICE to everyone." They would use their sensitivity and "picking up on everyone's aura/emotions" basically to avoid everything they did not like and to guilt trip everyone who inconveniences them.

Like when I was younger and empath as a term was starting to become widespread in the circle of cis white Christian women in my life they'd say things like "the Black Lives Matter protests are just too hard for me :(( there's so much anger I have to ignore all of it for my health."

I don't know when the spread to pseudoscience happened exactly but at some point white women who weren't into witchcraft still wanted an excuse to be racist (this happened before I heard about it since we weren't witches yet) so they took the term and applied psychology to it. Empath is %100 not in the dsm and it's not a disorder, let's be abundantly clear, however it was very quickly mistaken for hyperempathy so a lot of people got told they were an empath. Said white women in my life told me I was an empath to ignore the clear autism and ADHD (+BPD) symptoms that were giving me all these intense emotions. I casually used those terms for a while as a teenager but never fully immersed myself in the bullshit also hilariously got gatekept by empaths before because they could sense my autism from a mile away and it was primarily an ableist community.

Anyway another shift happened and I don't exactly know what the cause of this was either but it pretty readily has to do with empath at its source being thinly veiled white fragility but at some point terfs got ahold of it and like a lot of them. Terfs were busy painting the picture that anyone outside of cis womanhood (but of course, especially trans women and anyone else perceived as a man short of cis men themselves were the main targets) were "raging narcissists" because they're ableist as all shit of course.

So once they saw empath they latched onto it with a death grip because if everyone they didn't like was an abusive narcissist(tm) then they were delicate little empaths being abused. Because terfs one skillset is weaponizing their trauma against minorities this also made it's way into the ND community itself when the "survivor of narcissistic abuse" community was born and gained traction for a while. Then people who weren't terfs but only ever found these terms to describe emotional abuse started IDing as narc abuse survivors too and shit got real ugly.

Most recently a lot of people have realized that the concept of being an empath is really ridiculous and started satire posting about empaths and this satire was in turn taken seriously so now currently dunking on them is trendy and their numbers are slowly dwindling. Genuinely encourage everyone who wants to mock them and spread misinfo about them because it's funny and taking out a literal hate group.

But anyway to bring things full circle the white witches and pagans in the more appropriative circles (not just cis white women anymore) are complaining about having had their term stolen by terfs and ableists whilst doing nothing to examine the initial racism and other bigotry that caused it to spread in the first place. Like no compassion isn't your spiritual gift janet you just will die if you don't use that as a crutch for your lack of personality.

The only time empaths got any official recognition where books published about narcissistic abuse so if a therapist is referencing it that means they're getting their sources from a eugenicist hate group that wants to mass murder cluster Bs so that's a huge ableism red flag and they're not a safe therapist to talk to even remotely.

[gay-otlc]

Can we talk about how Sophie has trichotillomania?

Because I've been involved in KOTLC fandoms for over two years and I've heard it mentioned exactly once.

Trichotillomania is a disorder characterized by uncontrollable, repetitive pulling of hair. This can be scalp hair, eyebrows, arm hair, leg hair, eyelashes, really any type of hair. Even though the person knows they aren't supposed to enjoy pulling, they get a weird sense of pleasure or calm from it, and it's difficult to stop. Pulling is frequently done in stressful situations.

Does that sound familiar to anyone? Ring any bells?

Yeah, it sounds like Sophie Foster.

In the books, it's played off as sort of just another nervous habit, a weird quirk of Sophie's. It's mentioned a few times by other friends/adult figures as they ask whether it hurts, but when she says no, they don't tell her to stop. She's often described as "pulling on an itchy eyelash," but it seems to be more of a stress response than something causing her stress.

I thought it was just another weird quirk of hers until I started pulling out my hair. I would pull it most when I was stressed, and it always felt "itchy" just before I did.

It was horrible. Trichotillomania is fucking destructive. At my worst point, I had a huge, gaping bald spot. I didn't talk to people because I was ashamed of my hair. I missed class once because I couldn't tear myself away from the mirror and stop pulling. I spent hours in front of the mirror each day, checking and checking to make sure no one would know anything was weird if they looked at me.

It was so hard. And I felt so alone.

Now, as I said before, I read KOTLC nearly three years ago and have been making fan content for over two. Suffice it to say that series means a lot to me. How do you think it would have felt, if the protagonist of this huge part of my life, was just like me, struggled like me, and it turned out okay for her? I would have had so much hope that it could get better instead of climbing and clawing for every shred of progress.

Now, how do you think it felt to see that protagonist go through something similar, but it didn't matter much to her? It made me feel like some whiny bitch for being this upset about my hair. If Sophie Foster could have trich and go through life functioning fine (well, not really, but the trich doesn't make anything worse for her is my point), why couldn't I? Pathetic.

Like most days, today is a good day to get pissed at L*ura, so I'm going to use her art as an example. This is a close up screenshot of Sophie's eye (please ignore the cursor in the middle, my computer hates me).

[Image ID: A close up picture of an brown eye. It has long, dark eyelashes surrounding it and a cursor covering the pupil.]

(Please tell me if my image ID is shit idk how to write these.)

As we can clearly see, Sophie has long, dark eyelashes. The top eyelashes are most obvious, but there's a fair amount on the bottom as well. It's been a while since I've read the books, but Sophie doesn't wear makeup much, if I recall correctly. So she probably wouldn't be wearing mascara.

Then why the fuckity fuck do her eyelashes look so, for lack of a better word, normal, when she pulls them every three paragraphs?

People with trichotillomania look like they have trichotillomania. I have a bald spot. When I did all my research on trich in an OCD spiral, one writer said she had to wear wigs. Another said she had zero eyelashes for years. Someone on here (not saying who just in case they don't want me to) said their left eyebrow was nearly gone.

I hated how I looked in the worst of my trichotillomania days. It's less noticeable now, but I still hate it. I feel like a freak, to not have hair like a 'normal' person.

Now, Sophie Foster is described as beautiful. She has all the boys and the girls after her. She's an elf, all elves are beautiful. But she pulls out her eyelashes, and she pulls out her eyelashes so often, that unless elf hair grows at really different speeds (which I doubt it would, considering that would have been very noticeable when Sophie lived with humans), she would have no or very few eyelashes.

And yet, that was erased in her official art. Why? Because apparently, people can't look like they have trich and still be beautiful.

But that's bullshit. People with trich are beautiful. I am looking in mirrors and trying to tell myself I look beautiful instead of crying. Bald spots are beautiful. Eyes without eyelashes are beautiful. Brow ridges without eyebrows are beautiful.

People with trich are beautiful, dammit!

So give us that, Shannon. Give that to your readers who don't have trich, so they understand it, and your readers who do, so they see themselves for the first time and don't feel alone.

Give us Sophie Foster thinking she's ugly and a freak because she doesn't have eyelashes, and give us Keefe or Fitz or Biana or whoever telling her she still is.

Give us Sophie Foster trying to sit on her hands, telling herself not to pull, doing it anyway, and hating herself.

Give us Sophie Foster standing in front of the mirror and crying because she can't stop, she can't stop.

Give us Sophie Foster seeking help and trying to get better, trying to heal.

Give us Sophie Foster trying and relapsing and trying and relapsing and trying and relapsing and trying.

If you're going to give us Sophie Foster with trichotillomania, give us a character with trichotillomania.

[cdroloisms]

Sooo... how about that reveal that c!Sam wasn’t feeding c!Dream? I mean, we all knew it was coming, but still. The auto food dispenser probably broke or smtg bc when c!Sam came down, c!Dream asked if he was there to give them potatoes. (Also with him being shaken up by learning c!Tommy is alive, c!Sam might not remember or care to feed c!Dream, who has none of his stores of potatoes left.) So, assuming the dispenser is broken and he doesn’t know, why would he come down in the first place? 🟩⛏?

hello anon !! yeah that reveal ,, dang, we already knew that c!sam had presumably been starving c!dream, but to see not only c!dream but c!sam confirm it as well as it having lasted AT LEAST a week ,, d a n g . they are Not pulling any punches in this arc (which, i mean, judging on the q stream, isnt exactly surprising anymore,, but still)

in the prison guard stream, we see how the dispenser works - it’s not automatic as much as it’s remote, as c!sam or the prison guards still need to press a button in order to dispense food. he also says “i havent even been around to feed the prisoner” or something along those lines in tommy’s stream, so we can conclude that the decision to deprive c!dream of food after c!tommy’s death is INTENTIONAL,, which i mean. again. yikes. 

anyway, here’s a snippet of c!dream finding out that the “automatic” feeder isnt as automatic as he might’ve thought - here, the dispenser + crying obsidian are installed at around the same time, so it’s between bad and sapnap’s visit

tw: starvation, disordered eating, abuse, mental illness, self-hatred, toxic relationship, gaslighting, disturbing imagery, dark content, c!sam/warden!sam critical (again, be careful with the content warnings)

Dream stares up at the hole in the obsidian, barely able to make out a glint of metal in the dark chute. The dispenser, just as expected, doesn’t respond to his glare, refuses to whir and click in the way that indicates food, and Dream bites his tongue, mumbles curses under his breath.

“Prick,” he blows a breath through his gritted teeth, only more irrationally angry when the dispenser, as expected, ignores him. “Some automatic dispenser, Warden.”

The walls don’t respond. Nothing responds, here, besides the dark dark thoughts swirling in his brain, and he thinks he’d prefer it if those didn’t - or maybe he doesn’t, because company is company, even if said company is the same litany of blood anger revenge pain you deserve this you deserve all of this you have destroyed the world now lie in the bed you have made pounding at the base of his skull. He drags his hand down his face; every minute is an hour, and every hour is a minute. Time has no meaning when your only frame of reference is eternity.

Even so, even he can tell that it’s been a long time since he’s had food, even by his usual standards - several days, at least, because the ever-present ache of hunger in his gut had swelled into something angrier, demanding, no longer as easy to ignore. Another stabbing round of pain nearly sends him to his knees, and just as he always he does, he clings to the feeling, gathers it into his hands, grabs it by the edges and directs the sharp edges into the words he spits at the indifferent walls. Let the Warden hear him - what can he possibly do?

Just as it always does, the fury in him peters out, drains, leaves him alone in the middle of his cell. He sinks the ground, arms wrapped around his stomach; a part of him wants to laugh at the irony. Some people think of silence as emptiness, void; he knows now that it’s anything but. Silence is suffocating, thick, so present that anything he says seems to get lost within it seconds after leaving his mouth. It grows and pushes into his limbs, becomes a weight tied around his throat, expands into the air in his lungs like a slowly inflating balloon until it’s pressed into every corner and space of the cell, every corner and space of him, taking up so much room that he can hardly breathe around it.

The hunger hollows him out, and the silence fills the space that’s left; Dream wonders how much more there is for him to lose before he’s completely empty, just a husk filled with the same liquid misery that drips down the walls. He wonders if anyone would care- laughs. As if.

“Dream.” The intercom crackles; Dream perks up at the voice, spine straightening against his will, and his hands tighten into fists as he realizes - prime, how pathetic is he, now? The voice deepens, becomes more insistent. “Prisoner.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m here. Or maybe I’m not; you better come and check, yeah?” A humorless smile tugs at his lips, and a static-filled sigh comes through the speaker.

“This isn’t the time for games, Dream.”

Dream rolls his eyes. It’s not exactly the time to be a dick, either, but you don’t see me complaining. A flutter of something warm, joyful, rises in his chest at the sound of something- someone, other than his own voice, and he strangles it with a hand wrapped around his own throat - he won’t let them break him, won’t let himself become desperate enough to crave the attention of a man that hates him - he won’t- he can’t-

“Do you need something? Or were you yelling at the wall for no reason again?” Sam’s voice is steely, indifferent, on a knife’s edge between apathy and anger. “Don’t waste my time, prisoner.”

Dream bites down the snarky reply sitting on his tongue, breathes in, out through his nose until the fury is no longer blinding.

“Your fancy automatic jig is broken. The potato one. It’s not- working.” The hunger fogs his mind, makes it hard to think. He feels caged and weak and pathetic and he hates it.

“That’s because it’s not automatic.” Footsteps echo on the speakers, Dream tapping along to the rhythm before he realizes and stops himself, and a moment later the familiar whirring and clicking of the metal box comes from behind him and a small pile of potatoes fall down and splash into the water. “There. Is that all?”

Dream feels the fury rise, again, but doesn’t quite to keep the words back, this time.

“So what was the point of the whole automatic feeder, asshole? You’ve changed nothing! What’s the difference between that thing and you coming over to my cell besides that you’ve wasted a couple stacks of redstone? Congratu-fucking-lations, you’re a goddamn genius-”

“It’s remote now, so I don’t have to come into your cell.”

“Oh, so it’s just the good ol’ Warden looking for more ways to make the prisoner suffer, huh? Should’ve figured, you fucking self-righteous prick-”

“Dream.”

His mouth shuts with a click, a flash of fear searing through his muscles, white-hot, and by the time he’s blinked back the ringing in his ears the silence has stolen all the words from him, once again. Pathetic, he screams in his head, but his jaw remains firmly locked in place - the Warden’s won, per usual, and they both know it.

“Is that all?” He sounds impatient. Part of Dream wants nothing more than to never hear his voice again, and the other half of him rails at the idea of being alone with his thoughts once more. All of him hates himself, and all of him hates the silence; they’re the only two constants in this place. “You’ll have to speak up if you want anything.”

“How- long was it, since you last gave food?”

Static for a moment, then another. “It’s only been about a day.”

“Bullshit.”

“You’d know if you took care of your clock instead of destroying it, prisoner.”

“I’d know if you were less of a fucking prick.”

“Behave, and you might get it replaced.” The Warden’s breathing is harsh, almost labored - he must be angrier than Dream thought, then. “Speaking of which, you won’t be getting any for a day after this stunt.”

“Ooh, I’m so scared. It’s not like you don’t do this - what, every other day?”

“Do you want food or not?”

Dream’s teeth grind against each other; he breathes in, out. He hates this, hates the potatoes, hates the Warden, hates himself. Hates the way that a part of him recoils at the thought of making the Warden angry at him, reaches desperately for a chance to earn his clock- his approval. Attachments are weakness, he tells his traitorous heart, knowing that it, as always, will fail to stay away.

“Yes. Thank you.” The pleasantry burns on his tongue, tastes worse than the bitterness of raw potatoes that seems to be the only thing it knows, anymore.

“Good-bye, prisoner. Don’t make me come into the cell.”

The intercom cuts off with a click, the space that the static made immediately filled by silence. Dream watches it blankly, jaw sore from how tight it had been clenched, and begins to work his way through the first potato, nibbling at the pale flesh just enough to tide over the worst of the pain.

This is fine, he tells himself, and the walls stare at him impassively. He’s not sure they believe him.

He’s not sure how much longer he can believe himself.

[kyuuppi]

Unworthy

Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x Reader (gn)

Contents: hurt/comfort; Reader has mental health issues (depression, social anxiety, possible manic depressive disorder, extreme insecurity)

Word Count: 1.3k

You don’t deserve love. 

It is a fact, etched into mind and engraved into your heart after years of painful confirmation. You are not extraordinarily beautiful nor do you have a heart of gold. On the contrary, your face barely passes as “average” and mental illness has rendered your moods a lethal concoction of manic and depressive, the ratios depending solely on the time of day. 

Nothing about you is loveable and certainly not deserving of someone like Katsuki. 

Bakugou Katsuki, the man who talks big and works more than hard enough to back it up. There is truly nothing he can’t do, nothing he is not the best at. He pointedly steers clear of nonsense, never afraid to call people out on their bullshit. He doesn’t bother with false pretenses, doesn’t bother with things that would get in the way of his goals—

Which is exactly why it’s best for you to leave him alone. You’re weighed down with emotional baggage and weaknesses both mental and physical, you’re just a nuisance and it would only be a matter of time before he recognizes it and promptly cuts you from his life. 

You figure it will hurt a little less if you do it first. 

That’s why you leave. You skip the date the two of you had planned, the one you had been so excited for just a few days ago, scavenging the mall for hours before settling on what you deemed the perfect outfit. In retrospect it was all pointless anyway, lipstick on a pig is still a pig. Maybe, if you make it home before it starts to rain, you can still return the flowy black dress. Fold it up nicely in the fancy white bag it came in. You’re fairly certain you still have the receipt sitting on the top of—

“Oi!” 

Every muscle in your body freezes at the familiar sound. For a moment you think—hope—that you’ve imagined it. The startled jumps and confused turns from the people standing on the busy street corner around you prove otherwise. 

“I know ya heard me—if you try to make a run for it I swear to god I’ll hunt you down.”

You refuse to turn around and face his voice as it comes increasingly closer but you can already see the people around shooting you curious looks from the corners of your eyes. A few people step away from you warily, silently wondering what type of dangerous person would warrant the appearance of the Number Two Hero of Japan. 

The pause of heavy footsteps is the only warning you get before a firm hand grabs your arm and forces you to turn around. For a moment you look up and meet his eyes, vermillion and boiling with an obvious anger—perhaps if you’d looked longer you would have noticed the worry as well—but you quickly let your head fall back down, too ashamed to meet his gaze full on. 

He huffs. 

“You better have some damn good excuse for standing me up on our first date.” 

A few people around gasp and whisper among themselves, no doubt shocked by the prospect of Ground Zero of all people being stood up on a date by some dull looking person on the street. You suppose you would be surprised as well. For someone who graduated in the top 10 at U.A., Bakugou seemed terrible at cost-benefit analysis when it came to finding a partner. 

“Hah?” he urges when it becomes clear you have no intention of replying.

“Don’t just fucking ignore me—and what the fuck are all you extras looking at?”

Most of the people around quickly look away and carry on with what they were doing but Bakugou pulls you away anyway, his hand still firm on your upper arm. He leads the two of you to a more secluded area, a relatively clean alleyway between a convenience store and some apartment buildings. You back is against the wall while Bakugou strategically places himself in front of you but slightly to the left, blocking the sole exit in case you try to escape. 

“We can stand here all night, princess,” Bakugou bites out, gaze nearly burning a hole through the top of your head as you continue to stare pointedly at your own feet. 

“Now why the fuck did you stand me up? If you didn’t like me you should have just said so—I’m not some loser who can’t handle rejection.”

You huff an involuntary laugh at the thought. How ridiculous—you not liking him? He’s literally perfect, the epitome of everything a pro hero should be and well beyond any normal human. Millions of people worship the very ground he walks on and you’re no different. 

“I think its for the best if we...don’t associate with each other,” you finally murmur, struggling to convey your thoughts without stating the obvious ‘you’re way too fucking good for me, why did you even ask me out in the first place? Did you get brainwashed by a villain?’

“The fuck is that s’possed to mean?” he barks back, clearly not satisfied with your vague answer in the least. 

“Are ya worried about the villains or something? I can kick anyone’s ass if they try to mess with ya, y’know.” His voice softens along with his grip on your arm, seeming to consider, for the first time, you could possibly just be scared. It would not be unreasonable—he is one of the top pro heroes, a status one doesn’t earn without making a few enemies along the way. It is not unheard of for the most detestable villains to attempt to use the friends or family of heroes as hostage to get what they want. That is hardly anything you care about though—you know Bakugou is strong. You have no doubts he can protect the people he cares about...you just shouldn’t be one of them.

You finally steel yourself enough to look up and meet his gaze as you speak your next words. 

“Bakugou,” you start, seeing his subtle flinch at you calling him by his last name for the first time in months since you’ve known each other. “I’m...not good enough for you. You deserve someone strong, smart, and beautiful—someone who deserves to stand by your side, and I am none of those things. I’m just...damaged goods.” 

You try to laugh off the last line as if it were a funny joke but your voice sounds hollow even to your own ears. 

Somehow, Bakugou looks even angrier now. 

“You’re right about one of those things,” you try to ignore the sudden sting in your eyes at hearing your own thoughts coming from him. “You are a huge fucking idiot if you think you get to decide what I do and don’t deserve.” 

He steps closer, his firm chest pressing into your own softer body in a way that makes your heart stutter through several beats. Your face heats up on its own accord and you bite your lip in attempt to keep your body from spontaneously combusting. 

“One thing I hate more than anything is being told what I can or can’t do,” his voice is low, his hot breath brushing against your cheeks while he pins your gaze with his own.

“I don’t know who fed you this ‘not good enough’ bullshit but I’ll kick their ass for saying it then I’ll kick yours for believing it—I like you, okay? I want you by my side, whether you think you deserve to be there or not.”

You find yourself nodding along dumbly.

[mellometal]

Is it time to tear ANOTHER Dhar Mann video to shreds? YOU BET.

I've been sitting on this one for a bit because I wanted to make sure I talk about this tactfully. The subject of parents abandoning their disabled children is a very touchy one.

Parents abandoning their disabled children simply for being disabled is way too common. Like, I understand that not everyone has the resources to care for a disabled child (which is why you reach out for help, and why people like me, who work with disabled people, exist), but it doesn't mean you just walk out of their life. There are exceptions, like if you truly didn't want children or something like that, but just flat-out walking out of your kid's life BECAUSE they're disabled is fucked up.

I know someone personally whose biological mother abandoned her when she was born. Why? Because she's disabled. Physically, and mentally, to a point. I work with this woman on a daily basis. I don't really know WHY exactly her biological mother abandoned her, but I do know that her being disabled was part of it. It's sad. It doesn't affect her, thankfully. I'm happy that she's got her biological dad, her brother, and another maternal figure in her life, at least.

ANYWAYS. Before we get to the topic at hand, I need to put an obligatory trigger warning, like I do with EVERY Dhar Mann post:

This post will be talking about parents abandoning their disabled children simply for being disabled, treating disabilities like they're tragedies (in this case, we're talking about autism...again), divorce, and some SPICY ableist bullshit from an allistic (nonautistic) PIECE OF SHIT.

If any of this triggers you or makes you uncomfortable in any way, you don't have to read this post. This isn't worth putting yourself in a bad state mentally. I would never ask for any of you to put yourselves in that position all for a post. Put your mental health and well-being first. Consume media that sparks joy for you.

As far as my response goes, it's definitely more calm than normal. Funny....since this video is about autism spectrum disorder again. (Third time's the charm, huh, Dhar Mann? NOT.)

LET'S FUCKING GET IT.

The video starts off with these two parents (Gwen and Allen) in a psychologist's office. The psychologist tells the parents that their son (Chance) is autistic, and she tries to explain what autism is to the parents, but Allen cuts her off. Why? Because he teaches at a prestigious university, so he AUTOMATICALLY knows what autism is from that fact alone.

Um, excuse me? Just because you're a teacher at a prestigious university, it doesn't mean you're an expert in everything. It doesn't make you an expert in ASD or anything like that. Unless you SPECIALIZE in that area. Even then, shut the fuck up. The people who know about being autistic are AUTISTIC PEOPLE THEMSELVES! SHOCKER.

Hey, Dhar Mann! QUIT WITH THE VIDEOS ABOUT AUTISTIC LITTLE WHITE BOYS AND YOUNG WHITE AUTISTIC CISHET MEN! I'M SICK AND TIRED OF IT. It's annoying, ignorant, and it feels like you're doing this on purpose at this point to piss people off. If you're so uninformed about autism in women and girls, FUCKING ASK AUTISTIC WOMEN AND GIRLS! DO BETTER RESEARCH THAT DOESN'T INVOLVE AUTISM SPEAKS. The Autism Self Advocacy Network (ASAN) and the Autistic Women and Nonbinary People Network (AWN) are great organizations to go to for any kind of research on ASD in women and girls. STOP GOING OFF OF THE BRAINS OF AUTISTIC WHITE BOYS AND AUTISTIC WHITE MEN.

I don't feel I need to go too deep into the fact that autistic women, autistic girls, autistic nonbinary people, autistic BIPOC, autistic AAPI, autistic LGBT people, autistic teenagers, and autistic adults exist. Y'all already know.

Gwen asks the psychologist if that means Chance isn't healthy. (I understand not knowing about autism, but don't treat it like it's a terminal illness. Please.) The psychologist tells her that Chance is fine, but he just learns differently and might need more support compared to his peers.

Yeah, autism can affect how you learn about certain things (limited and repetitive patterns), but there are other disabilities that can affect learning as well. Like how dyslexia can affect your ability to read, dyspraxia can affect your ability to do math, and Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder (ADHD) can affect your ability to focus or on impulse control. Autism affects how your brain is developed, it affects you socially, behaviorally, and how you communicate.

Allen is upset, says that he can't have a son "with a learning disability" (ASD is a neurological disability, not necessarily a learning disability), and treats Chance like he's stupid for being autistic. Gwen tells her husband that autism doesn't make you any less intelligent, WHICH IS SO FUCKING TRUE. ABSOLUTE FACTS. I was totally with her until she began that little monologue with "Just because a person HAS autism". SAY "JUST BECAUSE A PERSON'S AUTISTIC" INSTEAD! IT'S NOT HARD. PERSON FIRST LANGUAGE ISN'T WHAT EVERY DISABLED PERSON PREFERS. Allen says that "they could have another kid" and "put Chance up for adoption". Gwen obviously wasn't down with that. Allen gives his wife an ultimatum that it's either HIM or their son Chance. Gwen says that she can't choose between the two, but she will stand by her autistic son. Allen gets up and leaves the office, saying he wants a divorce.

Years pass by, Gwen is single and taking care of her autistic son Chance, and Allen has a new life with a ✨perfect son✨ (Samuel). He never mentions the son HE abandoned (Chance). He's completely forgotten about Gwen and Chance. (YOU OWE SO MUCH CHILD SUPPORT, ALLEN.)

Hey, Allen, how much do you wanna bet that your ✨perfect son✨ Samuel is autistic too?

There's the SATs, they're announcing a winner, and guess who it is? IT'S OBVIOUSLY CHANCE, OF COURSE. He's got the highest score in the country, with Samuel in second place. Allen is PISSED.

Chance gives a speech about how his mom really helped him, he struggled with autism, how Allen LITERALLY ABANDONED HIM, and THE CROWD GOES FUCKING WILD. Samuel, instead of being a sore loser, APPLAUDS FOR CHANCE. Stay humble, Sam.

My thoughts on the video? If you cannot tell by my tone throughout this post, IT WAS DOG SHIT. This video was insensitive to the true reality of parents abandoning their disabled children just because they're disabled. What do I expect from Dhar Mann at this point?

Here's my response to his video below. Don't worry, I will fully type out my response soon for anyone who cannot read the screenshots easily. It's a lot easier for me to do that on the desktop site than it is for me to do it on my phone.

For anyone who can’t read my response, I’m typing it out for you. Like I said, it’s easier for me to type it out on the desktop site than it is for me to type it out on my phone. It’s a real royal pain in the ass. But because I’m trying to make my posts easier to read for people, I’m doing this anyway. /lighthearted

First, second, and third screenshots (broken up into paragraphs):

Hey, listen, I appreciate the message you’re trying to go for, but can you please stop putting autistic people into a box? Can you stop treating being autistic like it’s a tragedy? Not every single autistic person is a little white boy in elementary school who’s considered “wild and unruly” or “super quiet and makes no friends”, nor are they a young white cishet man who’s a super genius or is how Chris Chan was before she came out as trans. (For anyone who doesn’t know about Chris Chan, there are many documentaries people have made on YouTube, and I highly recommend Geno Samuel’s docuseries, if you’re really interested in learning about Chris Chan.)

Autistic women, girls, nonbinary people, BIPOC, APPI, LGBT people, teenagers, and adults all exist too. 

It’s very apparent now that you get your resources from Autism $peaks, a hate group that spends the vast majority of their money on funding eugenics instead of helping autistic people like they claim, claims that only little white boys and young white cishet men are autistic and ignores all other autistic people who don’t fit that description, have no autistic people on their leader board or on any board for that matter, have members who have actually fantasized about k1lling their autistic children, treat autism like it’s a tragedy or a disease someone can catch (completely false), act like autism should be cured (there is no cure, and ABA therapy is a total shit show in itself), and treats autistic people like they’re broken and need to be fixed. Also, not every autistic person is a Super Genius(tm). That’s so demeaning to autistic people who aren’t seen as intelligent in any way. I’m autistic and seen as smart; however, there are subjects I’m stronger in than others.

If you can’t handle the possibility of having autistic children, or just disabled children in general, DON’T HAVE CHILDREN. If you can’t handle working with or alongside disabled people, including autistic people, maybe find a different profession. Even if you do that, you’ll never get away from disabled people. Disabled people aren’t a disease. We’re human beings just like neurotypical and able-bodied people.

Fourth and fifth screenshots (broken up into paragraphs): 

I would highly suggest getting resources from reputable organizations for ASD, such as the Autism Self Advocacy Network (ASAN) and the Autistic Women and Nonbinary People Network (AWN). Talk to any autistic person who isn’t a little white boy or a young white cishet man. 

Instead of using the puzzle piece, which is a symbol that many autistic people, myself included, are offended by (because of Autism $peaks and other organizations before them using it, plus it symbolizes that only autistic children exist and that we’re “missing a piece” like we’re broken), use the rainbow infinity sign (for all neurodivergent people) or the red and gold infinity sign (just for autistic people). Instead of “lighting it up blue”, light it up red or gold. Do both if you want. 

I’m actually really sick and tired of seeing just autistic little white boys and young autistic white cishet men being represented in the media, and y’all manage to fuck that up too. 

Before anyone mentions Sia’s movie “Music”, that’s also very poor representation of autistic girls. Besides, the actress who played the autistic girl isn’t even autistic. She MOCKED autistic people. I know she’s a kid, but that’s still super fucked up. I hope she’s able to turn that around. 

If anyone would like to discuss this topic with me or ask any questions, feel free to. I’ll answer as best as I can. Thank you and have a good night.

Before I get attacked for mentioning Chris Chan in my response, I bring up Chris Chan because allistic people think that every autistic person is like her (especially before she came out as trans). That person is part of why I wasn't open about being autistic or talking about my diagnosis until this year. I didn't want to be grouped up with Chris Chan because I do have very similar interests to her, I've been seen as cringey for having said interests, and just the way Chris treated autistic people who were formerly diagnosed with A$p3rg3r$ $yndr0m3 (like I was) really made me feel even more alienated.

Also, S1a supports A$ (Autism $p3aks). She's not a very good person to support. Some of her music is good, but her as a person....no. Her movie "Music" was gross, from what I've read about it and seen pictures of.

If you've read this far, thank you so much!

[thewasteland]

hope you dont mind me sending in this ask!!

a lot of syscourse just reminds me of transmedicalism- if you dont suffer, you arent really a part of that community; if you are "cringe" you dont deserve support or acceptance; if you are open about your experience and love yourself, you make the community look bad.

so much of it is bullshit. we all have different experiences, and all experience plurality in different ways. we should be able to be ourselves openly and unabashedly and not be afraid of people finding out about the system. people who already hate systems arent gonna hate them any less bc you suck up to them lmaoo.

support eachother and love eachother, thats all i can say

Don't mind at all! love getting asks, although my response might disappoint. We really are of many different minds about the issue. We can all agree that the way things are now are toxic, but other than that it's all different opinions, so we mostly try to stay out of it to avoid pissing off everyone at once lol.

The issue with the "sysmed" thing tho is that like, I've never met a trans person who experiences their transness as a mental illness. Their dysphoria, maybe, but not their gender identity itself. Trans people being seen as mentally ill, or mentally ill people's transness being seen as a symptom of their mental illness, has been a stigma they've been trying to fight for a long time. I'm cis but I have witnessed it and it's so shitty. But DID/OSDD *is* considered a disorder by those who have it. So that's where the metaphor breaks down for me and just seems kind of shitty and backhanded to trans people, and/or like it's ignoring the fact that DID/OSDD are real disorders.

As far as the validity of endogenic systems, that's not something we care to discuss. It's literally their own fucking business. I don't know what I would hope to gain from running around calling people a liar on the internet.

Also the whole like "but what if endogenic systems are really just DID/OSDD systems who don't remember there trauma!!! We have to educate them!!1! By forcing them to face the reality that they were traumatized before they're ready!! Cause that's what's healthy!!"

Even if a system can remember their trauma, not everyone wants to say that their trauma created their system. Systems can bring a lot of help and joy, they are like your family, your blood, and saying that they were formed because of trauma just feels wrong. Or maybe you don't want to justify your existence with a reason at all. I don't think we should be forcing people into a box they don't want to be in.

*hits blunt* just let people live, man.

But on the other hand, I don't know if I really feel like I have much in common with endogenics. If they're not experiencing their system as part of a trauma disorder, I really can't imagine what that's even like. We are so shaped by trauma, every little piece of us, to the point that it's devastating at times. It feels like we don't have an identity outside of it. Having alters can be frightening and heartbreaking at times. And overall I just feel like I'd have more in common with a singlet trauma survivor than I would an endogenic system. So we generally stay in DID/OSDD spaces, and would appreciate it if endos would stay out of those, no hate it's literally just not for you, I want to hear about other people's experiences I can learn from and relate to, and get support for my disorder you know.

Jesus this got long but anyway this kind of turned into us internally debating and switching and ranting so sorry if I derailed at all. Anyway that's about as cohesive/coherent as we will ever be able to get our thoughts on syscourse.

Big agree to the second paragraph, and yes, supporting each other is the only way to go tbh.

[missskzbiased]

I Hate That I’m Afraid to Love You (3)

Genre: Romance, Friendship, Angst, Hurt /Confort , Suggestive, Fluff College Au, Enemies to Friends to Lovers Au, REALLY Slow burn, Love Square (?)

Pairing: Hyunjin X Fem!Reader  X Han X OC

WC: ~ 5,0K

[Previous] [Chap] [Next]

Masterlist

Warnings (general*): Language, Mentions of (Physical abuse, Death/ Loss of Loved One, Child Abandonment/Neglect, Divorce, Toxic Parents, Cancer, Mental disorder, Anxiety Attack)

Notes: I hope you guys like it. Chapter 2’s tags didn’t work TT.TT so I hope this time the tags works… *Sigh* Anyway! This and the next 2 chapters will have more of an angsty feeling to them. If you guys feel that I should put a warning or something like this, please let me know! [Although I think I listed everything on the general warnings]

I’m opened to any feedback! It’s my first fic like this so I know I have a lot to learn yet. Any tips or suggestions are welcomed!

REMINDER: I’m neither a psychologist nor a psychology student.

The next chapters will have some things related to psychology BUT IT’S ALL FROM MY MIND. Please don’t consider it as something a therapist would say.

Also, don’t consider it as a good way to handle any mental illness.

Just as a note, the MC will realize she needs therapy at some point [~chap10], so I’m not trying to show friendship, love or whatever as the solution to mental illness [Though those kind of things can help you out, consider doing therapy if it’s possible]  

Updates: I’ll update it once a week [Tuesdays] because I still have to write the chapters to come and review the ones I already wrote

                                                       ////

    If you knew all it took to get Hyunjin’s head out of his ass was confront him, you would have done it way too sooner.

   You knew you got on his nerve when he came into the classroom without sparing you a glance, his usual mocking self nowhere to be seen. He walked straight ahead to his seat, gliding, his chin slightly upraised as if he felt like a royal member himself, lips quirked up in a carefree way that you knew he was feigning. You shouldn’t feel too good about it, but you felt it anyway.

   Paris noticed something was wrong, her eyes following him amazed, noticing he didn’t try to flirt or tease you at all.

   “Is it just me or he just ignored you?” She asked surprised, her eyes glued to him even when he was already settled on his seat “He didn’t even look here!” Her eyes shot at you, mischievous “What did you do?” she grinned devilishly.

   “Nothing” You shrugged, struggling to keep your smirk off of your face.

    You always said you didn’t really hate Hyunjin and you meant it, but it didn’t mean you were anywhere near to be fond of him in any way. You knew you were being petty and childish, but you couldn’t help it. You weren’t obliged to put up with his guts! He had this infuriating aura around him like he was some kind of god, and it just upsets you to the point you wanted to punch him sometimes. He did nothing wrong, but that was exactly the issue! You hated these kinda movies that pictured the male lead as a perfect little thing that could do all he wanted because he was just amazing... People like this didn’t exist.

   Except that he almost fit that image.

   Now, you weren’t saying he was perfect! He was way too far from that if your opinion had any importance at all. The thing is that he is rich. Okay... But being rich is enough to make you hostile towards someone? Well, it is when this someone doesn’t put a damn effort into anything and you have to work your ass off to get the same results as him. So maybe you were envious? Yeah, maybe. Whatever. You felt wronged when you knew you had to be all work and no play while he could play whenever he wants because he was blessed with a good family.

   It was infuriating.

   Of course, you would be able to get good scores at everything without putting any effort into it if you were tutored back in high school like he was... Of course, you would be able to look charismatic and sassy if you had the time to sleep after your work, instead of studying your ass off so you could keep up your grades and your scholarship... Of course, you would be able to have fun and be relaxed, hence being able to absorb all the information your professors spat out if you didn’t have to live up to everyone’s expectations! And, of course, you would be able to have a good relationship with the university if you were a hell out of a rich girl that could give your damn money to the university and get on everyone’s good side.  

   So maybe it wasn’t Hyunjin’s fault to be able to do things you couldn’t do even if you worked your fingers to the bone... But he and his shitty personality didn’t help his case at all. Maybe if he was a kind guy or something like this, but he was an asshole! He knew how you hated all those things about him, and he would still rub it to your face. He got off on the fact you were miserable compared to him! Every time he could bring up how he was better than you in every aspect (which he wasn’t, really!), he would. Every time he could show you how the professors got on his side just because, he would. Every time he could do something that made you pissed off, he would.

   So maybe it wasn’t Hyunjin’s fault he had everything you worked for.

   But his good for nothing personality was solely his fault.

   And you would hold on it for your dear life.

   “Y/N, could you refresh my memory? What was your feeling’s choice?” Your professor, Mr.Lee, asked in a quiet tone before scratching his white beard, his eyes focused on yours, analyzing your every move. It was kind of invasive every time he looked at you as if he could see your soul, and you wondered if someday you would be like him.

   “It was Hate, sir” You answered firmly, your eyes sharp as a knife when you returned his gaze.

    “Would you care to enlighten us about your choice? Is it too personal?” He asked in a kind tone, letting it be your call. You didn’t understand why he was beating around the bush like this, but you shrugged it off.

    “As I said last week, sir, I think hate can move people to do dreadful things without thinking about the consequences… I believe nothing can beat hate. Not time. Not love” You looked in Paris’ way with an apologetic smile “I guess I made my point clear enough last time” You added, a tight smile on your lips.

   “Yes. Yes, You did… I remember a lot of raising hands to agree with your plea” He acknowledged, his eyes darting to Hyunjin this time “And you, Hyunjin? I believe your answer was also quite defended last Friday” He encouraged. Hyunjin looked back at him, still averting his eyes from you at all costs.

   Your smirk made its way to your lips as you felt superiority’s sweet taste.

   “Yes, it was, sir” He agreed. Even though he didn’t feel like talking to you and seemed… Tense, his voice still hung that endearing power he had, getting everyone’s attention as he opened his mouth to repeat what he said before “Fear is clearly stronger than Hate as it can paralyze people, make them give up on everything… If hate makes you do things you regret, fear also makes you regret things you can’t do” He seemed off as he spoke it, his eyes too focused, his jaw clenched slightly… His arguments got better too, maybe he thought about it since Friday?

   Probably not.                                                                                                                                                                    

   “And I believe no one could agree with Paris, since the classes ended in the best part of our discussion! Paris had a good argument, though, and I happened to hear from Hyunjin himself, that it beat his own” He sang, Paris chirped excitedly, making you chuckle “If any of you were too hungry and lost to remember, she said Love was the strongest feeling because it could beat any other… You could beat fear and hate with it, you could do something out of love or sacrifice yourself by not doing something in the name of love…” His voice hung there, purposely pulling an imaginary string, getting everyone attention as he looked around, the cliffhanger being too hard to ignore.

     “So who was right?” You heard someone asks from the back, your eyes glued to your professor’s smirk as you waited, your breathing withhold on your chest, hoping you could be the one to be right, or at least Paris…

   “No one and every one of them” He announced, proudly. It was needless to say all the holding breaths came out as disappointed sighs, an unknown winner standing for the title you would never get “This exercise isn’t about who is right or wrong… There is no such thing as the most powerful feeling! Every single feeling has a full meaning for that one person that holds it” You rolled your eyes, thinking about how Mr.Lee could be such a good professor and such a bad one. He was bullshitting all of you, and to speak of which—

   “That’s bullshit!” A girl uttered in the front row “Are you saying a patient in love is the same as a patient who wants to kill themselves?! Someone who hates themselves so much they want to be dead… You can’t say it’s not as powerful as some lovesick bast—I mean, person” Okay, so maybe that girl had some hate issues? You saw his eyes lit up as if he was expecting a tantrum.

   “You can’t see a patient who hates himself and say he’s more important than that one fearing something to the point he can’t even get away from his own house… Nor say the one who’s healing themselves with love ─ this being self-love or someone else’s love ─ isn’t as important as your other patient… Every single human being is a full universe, and a good professional has to be able to see it clearly! The most important feeling to you may not be the most important feeling to this patient, you have to think ahead of yourself” He smiled at the end of his speech, clearly proud of the marveled looks on your face.

   You thought it was kinda cute how he stood there giving these same classes probably for… twenty? Thirty years? And still got so excited to see how all of you would react. You let a smile flicker over your face, and you felt Paris beam at your side ─probably relating it with music in her head─ but Hyunjin wasn’t so impressed, raising his hand promptly, getting a nod from Mr.Lee who was giving him the word.

   “What did you make us suggest them for? If the whole point was to make us understand every feeling matters, I can’t understand why we lost one day debating it” You turned your head from Hyunjin to Mr.Lee, expecting what kind of answer he would give.

   He grinned again, glad things were going on his way.

   “That’s a great question” He agreed “The thing is, my fellow students, you guys tend to state the most important feeling to you… I think it should be no surprise that you are all adults struggling with things along your way, and by this simple debate, I can tell you, Mr.Hyunjin, struggle with a great fear of something… I can tell Ms.Paris healed herself with great love… If you want me to be more specific, I do remember her statement about love being protective, and her examples were about a mother protecting her child and a soldier… Would I be wrong if I guess your mom’s love moved her to do great things to protect you from something really dangerous, Ms.Paris? Perhaps something as violent as a war?” Holy shit! You felt as you were on a ‘Now You See Me’ movie, all hidden things getting a spotlight right in front of you.

    “No, sir! You would be totally right!” She agreed blissfully, getting a humming from him.

    “I thought so too” He joked, laughing to himself “Do you have any more questions, Mr.Hyunjin?” His voice held this knowing tone when you just knew you have nailed it.

   You felt the urge to clap, excited at all this.

   Then you felt the urge to hide.

   You struggled with hate, and now it was unfolded there for anyone who wanted to see it.

   You couldn’t focus on your classes anymore, your mind wandering around some stuff you didn’t really want to remember right now, your childhood unfolding there like a really long movie that you didn’t want to watch at all. Paris seemed to notice your absentminded self, her hand resting on top of yours, reassuringly squeezing your own before you smiled weakly at her, the soft contact dragging you out of your thoughts.

   “I’m fine” You guaranteed, receiving a nod as a response.

    Her hand never left yours though.

    There are times, such as this, your mind just gets numb.

    It’s almost like a TV snowing, the soft noise sounding like numbness at the back of your mind, nothing really getting there, even though your eyes were opened and looking straight ahead, you didn’t take in any images. You weren’t quite sure what was on your mind when the loud alarm sounded through your brain, getting you startled, your eyes snapping back to whatever was happening in front of you: A sea of students wiping their stuff into their bags and scattering around. You looked around, confused when you finally noticed the class had ended.

   How long were you thinking? Were you even thinking? What was Mr.Lee saying?

   You sighed heavily, looking at the blank pages on your notebook, and you could almost feel like he stared back at you, disappointed. Paris rested her hand on your shoulder, burying your head with a worried look that made you say the first thing coming across your head “Classes ended already”, Oh, well… That was a poor statement… You got a sympathetically look as an answer, “Han must be almost here, we should get ready” You added, a more useful wording this time, getting your stuff and standing up, your hand finally away from hers.

    She got up as well, letting you go just like this. You couldn’t be more grateful for her understanding right now. You merged into the crowd getting out of the class, taking short steps and stretching your neck, trying to get air and have a vision around, searching for Han in the hallways. As soon as you got out, you felt a hand grab your wrist, pulling you to the sides, colliding with a warm chest that made you frown annoyed, glaring at the boy who turned out to be Han himself.

   “Are you blind?” He laughed, ruffling your hair, getting a chuckle from Paris.

   “No, you’re just too small” You mocked, his whining making you and Paris laugh. The three of you made your way through the crowded hallways, heading to the dining hall, ready to eat whatever was being served there. You looked around the Quad, expecting to see Chan there waiting for Hyunjin and wave at him, since you knew they both use to have lunch together on Tuesdays.

   What you didn’t expect was to catch a glance at an odd woman, her flashy fashion getting your attention immediately and making you feel dizzy.

   You would bet you were pale as a ghost.

   “Hey, are you okay?” You heard Han ask, glancing over the area you were staring “You seem kinda… Off” He stated worried, getting Paris attention as well, making her stop her blabbering about today’s class and look at you concerned.

   “I’m just hungry” You uttered, looking at them with a tight smile “Let’s go quickly before I pass out” You said hurriedly, pulling them by their wrists, eager to get out of there.

   They let you hurry them, exchanging a look before shrugging it off.

                                                          ////

   You felt your heart slamming on your chest, your lungs seeming too small to handle your need for air. Although you weren’t running for real, your steps were quick and wide, your head swivels as you tried to find Chan on campus, your legs burning as you walked fast and your neck hurting to move around searching for him. You felt a hand on your shoulder, grabbing it with much more strength than needed, and you shut your eyes closed, defeat washing over you.

   “Holy shit, where were you?!” Chan’s voice sounded alarmed and your disappointment switched to relief.

   “Oh, thank god!” You chirped, turning around and hugging him out of reflex “Where were you?! Did you see her?” You asked worried, his face giving all the answers you needed “Is it bad?” Your voice sounded weak even to your ears, thin and trembling.

   Fragile.

   “It’s… Well, it’s not good” He mused, averting his eyes “It could be worst I guess… She wants to talk to you” He explained, his hand squeezing your shoulder “I told her I would ask you to meet her at the yard… It was the least crowded place I could think of… ” He sighed, looking tired; he must have been worried, running around like this just to find you “Where the hell is your phone? Why can’t you pick up my call, woman” He complained, trying to light up the mood, but you couldn’t find his teasing amusing right now.

   “I forgot it at the dorm… I will pick it up later, before work” You answered, kinda absent-minded, your mind wandering around a hundred thoughts at the same time, your breathing starting to falter. You felt his arms wrapping you up, embracing you tightly and soothing something on your ear as he stroke your hair gently, his sudden touch getting your attention back to him “Thank you” You muttered against his chest, clearing your throat before pushing him away gently “Lord, stop being cheesy” You joked, making him scoff in disbelief.

   “I run around this damn place because you can’t take your phone with you like a grown-up ass and you call me cheesy?” He snorted, feigning to be hurt as his hand rose to his chest “I even ditched Hyunjin for you…” He added, swiping imaginary tears as he looked at you.

   “Hyunjin was with you?” You asked exhausted “Great… Did she say anything in front of him?” He was quick to shake his head, denying, and you let a relieved sigh “Well, that’s good then”

   “I asked him to wait where we were, guided your mom, and came for you… I don’t think he connected the dots yet, although he will ask about it for sure” He explained briefly and you nodded in response “I think you should go talk to her before she comes back” He reasoned, and you nodded in agreement, squeezing his shoulder in silent gratefulness before smiling gently at him, getting a small smile back.

    If you had one thing in this world you could always count on it would be Chan.

    You picked up your pace, trying to reach the yard as fast as possible, using all your strength to gather your thoughts together; worry washing over you as you got closer to your destination. You couldn’t be distracted; you had to keep calm, to be understanding, to be focused. As soon as your eyes landed on her, you felt your heart pang. She was beautiful, of course, her blond dyed hair suited her well, and her sunglasses matched well her style, the flowery dress giving a girly and young vibe to her.

    How long had it been since you saw her like this?

    She seemed to notice you, taking her glasses off and flashing you a bright smile, getting up from the bench she was sitting on, and coming to meet you halfway. You looked around, checking for people you knew, before sighing in relief as you made sure the yard was indeed pretty vacant, just like Chan predicted, and opened your arms so she could hug you like she made mention to do.

   “Long time no see!” She chirped, hugging you tightly, and you seized the moment for a bit, her warm embrace making you smile homesickly “You never come back home! We miss you” There was it. You nodded, not really agreeing with her, and broke away from her, a tight smile adorning your lips.

   “Yeah… We just have a lot to do here” You lied “How is it back home? Why are you here?” You asked genuinely curious. She shrugged, grabbing your wrist and guiding you to the bench she was sitting before, sitting down and patting it so you would do the same.

   “I think I will get back with your father” She beamed “He’s in love with me! I wanted you to be the first one to know” You closed your eyes, sighing before you opened them again, looking straight into hers. She looked exactly as you remembered in your childhood… Delusional.

   “Mom, he doesn’t love you…” You said cautiously, searching for any signs of rage on her face, but all you got for an answer was a scoff “He abandoned you, mom… He’s back now, but he doesn’t love you… Please, don’t make a big deal out of it” You pleaded, but now her disgust was plastered all around her face.

   “You were always like this… You never loved him!” She uttered, her voice rising just for a bit, but it made your heart race anyway, afraid she could get out of control “That was exactly why he left us!” She added, her rage made you shrink your shoulders, your eyes unconsciously scanning around to see if anyone was looking, shame imbuing every part of your body.

    “I wasn’t the reason he left” You muttered, her gasp getting your attention again, her eyes accusing you silently.

    “Are you saying I was the reason he left us?” She asked, hatred dripping from her words.

     Yes.

     “No, of course not!” You rushed to say, your lie tasting bitter on your throat, the dry gulp inevitable “We’re not to blame… It was his own fault” You reassured her, your hand making its way to her shoulder before she swapped it away, huffing.

    “You’re unbelievable” She snickered “He came back for me, he has been with me for three years! You can’t understand how much he loves me! How much we belong together!” Her voice was loud now, and you were sure anyone who happened to go through the yard would be watching you “He loved you, Y/N… He even had your photo! Did you know that? He had that tiny photo of you… He never stopped loving you, and you can’t be grateful for what you have!” You bit your lower lip, trying to stay calm, to be the responsible one.

   Again.

   “Are you taking your meds?” You asked tired, your back curved as if you had aged fifty years in this few minutes of talk “Is he giving you your meds?” You asked again, looking in her eyes. She looked at you like you were a bug annoying her, her brows frown as she leaned closer to your face.

   “I don’t need the pills” She spat angrily, her eyes shooting yours “I can take care of myself! Look at me, I’m here, ain’t I? I came here by myself! I don’t need to be enclosed! I’m okay!” She got up from the bench, yelling at you. Finally, some people seemed to notice the commotion, and you could only avert your eyes…

  You could handle it, you always did it.

 “I can take care of myself just like I took care of you!”

   No, you couldn’t.

  “I took care of you” You uttered, your eyes burying in hers “Do you know who didn’t take care of you?! Who didn’t take care of me?!” You yelled back, angry “Him! He didn’t take care of you! He didn’t love you! He doesn’t love you now!” You got up from the bench as well, gesticulating widely as shame and anger mixed up on your guts, the solid presence of eyes fixed on you in the back of your head, fueling it.

   Way to go, Y/N! Just what she needed right now!

   You felt the sting on your cheek before you could process what happened.

   “You don’t even see him at home, you know nothing” She spat, her hand still raised in the air, no signs of regret in her eyes. You felt the tears prickling, your hand trailing to your face slowly before caressing the hot skin, the pain in your chest deeper than what you felt on your face. You didn’t dare to look around, to check people’s reaction, so you just stood there, looking her in the eyes as your vision blurred.

   “Oh my god” You heard a male voice, startled.

   You could recognize it even if you didn’t hear it for three whole years, even if before that you haven’t heard it for a whole ten years of your life… You could recognize it anywhere because it was his voice, the voice who answered you when you first learned to say daddy, the voice that soothed you before sleep, the voice who supported your mother through her depression, the voice that yelled at her when she was being a maniac, the voice that vanished from your life… That voice belonged to the one who had only one task… And failed it.

   “Honey!” Your mother beamed; his eyes landed on her confused before turning to you. He was accompanied by a man in uniform, a Hospital logo on his chest that you promptly recognized as Chan’s family business, he walked over to your mother, guiding her away gently.

   Of course, it was Chan, even when your father showed up to do something useful, it wasn’t his initiative.

   “You suck” You said as you got closer to him, rage bubbling inside you “You just needed to take care of her… Can you do at least one thing right? Can you take care of anyone at all?” You asked exhausted, stopping right in front of him, your eyes held a disappointment that made him shrink.

   “I’m giving it to her… I don’t know what is happening” He defended himself, making you scoff.

   “Did you look under her tongue? Are you sure she’s taking it? Maybe, if you were there you would have known that she may hide the pills and sometimes refuses to take them…” You laughed humorlessly “It’s funny because I learned it at… ten years? And you don’t seem to learn anything at your forties or whatever!” You snorted, pissed off and bitter,”I should know something was wrong though… Her messages were different…“ You mused, drowning in your guilty.

   “I tried to reach for you, but you didn’t pick up…I was hoping she would get better” He admitted and you could only roll your eyes, looking away before averting them back to him in a cold-steel glare.

   “Yeah, because it’s my fault you can’t handle something that I handled just fine as a kid” You spat, disbelief in your eyes “I can see how invested you are in this” You gestured between yourselves, scoffing as he averted his eyes ashamed. You prepared to make your way to your room but as soon as you got past him, he turned around, calling you.

   “I missed you” He muttered, making you spin on your heels.

   “I bet you did” You smiled bitterly “You’re a professional at missing things… You missed a lot of them all this time, didn’t you? I bet you missed me so much! You missed my birthdays a lot!” You laughed bitterly, clasping your hands together and tilting your head “You missed my graduation… You missed all the therapy mom had to take because of you! You even missed the only thing you had to do to try to redeem yourself!” You scoffed, shaking your head in contempt “You missed a lot of things, dad… You’re twelve years too late to miss me now, though” You sighed, turning away from him and walking straight ahead to your dorm.

    As you walked through the yard, heading to the dorms, you could only feel all of your emotions boiling up, tightening your chest, blocking your throat, and turning into tears before you shot your head up, a failed attempt to stop the tears falling down your face as you walked. People didn’t seem to mind your crying though, as you should have expected, since college students were fated to cry about their terms, essays, and all of the troubles college brought to their lives. You could only feel relief as you lowered your head and quickened your pace, people ignoring you.

    As soon as you opened your door, slamming it open in your stupor, you regretted your crying, and your poor choice of place to go, watching as Han and Paris widened their eyes at you, startled by your state. You closed the door behind you, closing your eyes and clearing your throat, your hands hurriedly wiping your tears away before you turned around to look at them with a clearly fake smile that you knew that looked more like a grimace.

   “Sorry for interrupting” You said, voice almost steady “I… Will be in my room” You added, fast walking.

   “I think you should go…” You heard Paris telling him “Y/N, come here, let’s talk” She pleaded. You heard both of them getting up from the couch. You locked your door right after you got to your room and sat on the floor, head burying in your knees as you hugged them. You heard a door opening, probably Han going away, and as soon Paris knocked on your door you started to cry again.

   “I saw them again… She came to talk to me” You blurted, trying to say something coherent but failing it “She said he loves her… She said it’s my fault they got away from each other… She slapped me…” You sobbed now and then, and even though you tried to explain the situation you Knew Paris must feel lost there, not knowing what to say “He said he missed me… I fought with him again, Paris… I’m just like him! I will abandon everyone around me…” You cried hard this time, trying to recompose yourself miserably, grabbing your ears and swinging back and forth, trying to calm down.

  As you hushed yourself, you missed the door closing with a loud bang.

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

warnings: extremely negative feelings towards a sibling, distressing / intrusive thoughts. placed under a break due to the content of the message. remember, I'm not a mental health professional.

updated with additional viewpoints from readers at the bottom!

I'm sorry in advance.

I really hate my older sister. She never respects my boundaries, insults me frequently, and is just annoying and hypocritical in general.

I've always had these issues with her, but she lived at her own apartment away from me and the rest of my family, so I've been able to control my hatred of her. But last year in March she moved back in and sold her apartment. She has no plans of leaving anytime soon, and I can't stand her.

We shared a bedroom for about a year because we were also taking care of my cousin who also moved in with us last year. My cousin has since moved out, but my sister is unfortunately here to stay for a couple of years. But with extra space, I was able to move into the spare bedroom and thought that would be the end of my problems.

It wasn't. In fact, she has become even more unbearable. The hardest part of this relationship is that she has a weird obsession with being with me. I'm not sure if this is because she loves me, or she's just weird. I think she's weird because my parents never act like she does.

Our bedrooms are right next to each other. There's really no reason for her to miss me. But every single fucking minute she's coming into my room to bother me. I would have more empathy for her if she acknowledged my limits, but she doesn't.

She's constantly cuddling me after I've said for MONTHS that I don't enjoy it and it makes me uncomfortable. She constantly belittles me by saying I couldn't live without her, and that I would be a mess if it wasn't for her (mind you, I've lived without her at the house for YEARS and I was perfectly fine). She's constantly in my business, interrogating me about every little thing. She once locked the door and wouldn't let me leave the room without answering her questions for 20 minutes; she asked me about a $30 Amazon order containing manga I ordered with MY OWN MONEY. And I had permission for my parents to order it! It wasn't her business whatsoever.

I've tried to keep her out numerous times; I've gotten in trouble for it. My parents say I'm being mean and that this is her way of loving me. What I feel like they ignore is that I'M UNCOMFORTABLE. Her way of "loving me" HURTS.

I've tried communication. I've had multiple meetings with my family about my boundaries and they say they'll change, but they never do.

Another factor that worsens this is that I have borderline personality disorder. I'm currently being denied therapy or intervention of any kind. I get told my mental illness is a result of me having an attitude and hating my family.

I writing this to you because I've been having very alarming thoughts recently. I'm been somewhat suicidal as long as I can remember, but this is different. I've been having nightmares about killing my family/my family killing me. I don't want to kill my family. As much as they have abused me, I know they truly love me deep down. But when I'm in a mental breakdown, I don't think for the most part. I'm afraid I'm going to do something to hurt them if they continue to push me. I'm too scared to turn myself into the police and I don't want to be taken away from my home. I truly need therapy, but it's expensive and I'm not allowed to get it.

Are there any options left for me? I love my family and I want to get better, but I can't stand them. It'll be a while before I can live on my own, and I don't think I'll make it that long.

I'm so sorry.

I appreciate that you came to me, however, please remember I am not a mental health professional.

I do not have the best relationship with my family. I've come to accept that they just exist and I moved away from them. I keep a strict level of familiarity with them for my own sanity and well-being. There are people in my immediate family I don't talk to anymore or only speak to in certain situations, with other people around to buffer my emotions. No one in my family understands or respects my mental health issues and I have ceased talking about it with them.

I will admit, I had to ask for help. I'm going to share the answer of someone I trust, because they are much more level-headed when it comes to something like this.

Use different words with your sister. Instead of "I'm mad or annoyed", use words that bring out more empathy - "You're making me sad and uncomfortable. You're hurting me." Anger is usually perceived as something within you, something you must control. But sadness is usually not perceived in the same light. People usually see sadness as something that has a cause and perhaps letting her know that she is the cause will have an effect on her. Using different words when speaking to her may slowly change her perspective.

When it comes to your parents, well, parents do not usually understand sibling dynamics. They're fucking useless most of the time when it comes to problems specifically between siblings. It might be better if you say something like, "Her constant intrusions are affecting my school work. My grades are going to drop." Usually, parents respond more urgently if you say you education is affected - and it doesn't matter if it's true or not, we're just trying to get them to help in some way.

I had to remind them it's summertime lol

Oh shit, you're right. Er. Well, In any case, it seems you've tried having reasonable discussions with your parents and it doesn't seem helpful to continue discussing this particular topic with them. Maybe get into fitness since it's summertime. Go outside, do something active. She can't cuddle you if you're running, right? Then you can also be stronger and feeling better physically improves mental health. Put some music on, go hiking or running, take yourself out of the situation.

I don't know if this is possible, but perhaps if you're experiencing a mental breakdown and you're afraid of hurting your family, run out of the house? It might be better to be physically away from them at that time to avoid saying or doing anything you regret. It may help clear your head and help your family realize that this is something that is truly debilitating to you.

I don't know your age, so I don't know if the school thing is relevant. It's only a suggestion.

You said it will be a while before you can live on your own. When I knew the cons of living with my family outweighed the pros, I did everything in my power to prepare myself for leaving because I needed a goal in order to survive. I needed distractions, reading, writing, gaming, music, anything else to occupy my mind and help control my thoughts. There was a time when I needed music to fall asleep (headphones in on low volume).

Also... uh.

I'm not saying you should do this. I'm only saying I did.

My siblings and I have physically fought before. One has scars from fighting me. The scarred one is the one closest to me currently.

Not saying you should do it.

But I did.

If anyone feels comfortable enough to share how they dealt with it in their own situation, please do. Maybe more perspectives can help this person.

--

some other experiences sent to me:

anon #1

I don't think I had a situation that extreme but my brother was a little like that. I honestly had to become kinda rude and indifferent. Like he'd always use my laptop and stuff and I put passwords on everything and just don't tell him. And then when he tried to hug or cuddle id say I don't liek it and just push him away physically now this soudns fucking obvious when I say it this way but like I don't think I read that u tried it ? Idk I discovered I have a loud annoying scream that neighbours will hear, and fucking strokg legs I used to kick him away but like I was tiny so I don't really endorse violence but I didnt like being close to a 'boy' essentially at taht age so yea... Idk man siblings are weird and I have had intrusive thoughts so I think I didn't handle it well but for a few years I became an asshole to him and then now I'm good with talking sometimes and I keep it short and sweet and I've mentioned that I'm sorry for being mean in the past bcuz like I am ? Bcuz I'm not an asshole ? ( But like I did what I had to do ) I hope u get the help and support u need

anon #2

I read the message from the previous anon and I have to say I relate to what they say. I wouldn’t say i’ve completely dealt with the situation when it comes to my parents.

I have 4 siblings and i’m the oldest, my sister that’s 2 years younger than me always gets in my way and is a tyrant. Because she’s much taller than me she overpowers me and i also have scars from when we’ve fought. My parents don’t intervene because they say we’ll make up soon and I honestly can’t stay mad at people for long. I also live with my parents and am not able to move out anytime soon until I get my degree.

A few weeks ago my mother was complaining to my father that I don’t help around the house and all that bullshit but it’s obviously not true. Anyway. My father came into my room and threw all my clothes from my cupboards on the floor and said my sister and I must get out of his house. He was literally pulling us and we were crying because where the hell would we go. My smaller siblings were begging for him not to chase us out of the house but he was ballistic. He was constantly throwing insults at me, calling me selfish and disrespectful. I was having a mental breakdown and I said i hope that God takes my life away because i’m too weak to do it myself. I kept saying that and when my parents heard me. They called me crazy and were laughing at me and said i should take it back because instead of me another one of my family members would go.

My parents don’t care about mental health and therapy. It’s all unnecessary to them. But after that night I tried to find my own way of getting rid of the negative thoughts, I choose to ignore what everyone tells me. I agree with everything that you said about trying to get away from their family when they have those thoughts. I try meditation and praying. I’m not sure if that person follows any religion but that’s what helped me. And writing can be cathartic. Also remember that you’re not alone, there are so many people out there who share your sorrows and can relate to your situation. I think about my little siblings who i’m close to and what it would be like if i wasn’t there.

Maybe if they could get a pet? I know having a pet can make you feel less alone and you feel a sense of responsibility towards them. As for their sister, she needs to see their point of view and tell her that she makes her feel overwhelmed with the things she does. She can spend time with her and try to make her understand that they need their space too.

anon #3

I also have sum advice 4 the sibling anon frm a fellow bpd buddy:

Does ur view of ur sister change from "i hate her" to "she's alright" sometimes? Viewing sum1 as all bad or all good is common in bpd ppl and usually changes alot. I rec writing down the moments where she shows she loves u. This could be thru buying smth for u or doing smth 4 u. I had a similar relationship w a friend and this exercise helped me remember that she might not have intentions to hurt me and might b trying 2 bond. Repairing the relationship might take a while. Talk alot if u can, it seems like ur family is at least willing to hear u out, even if there behavior doesn't change much. Keep sum distance if needed. Working out and finding fun hobbies is good.

If u feel like ur breaking down, try breathing exercises n identify 5 things u notice thru ur senses. What do u feel? What do u smell? What do u taste? What do u see? What do u hear? I personally like taking myself down rabbit holes. For example: I see a yellow jacket > this shade of yellow is a cool tone > what makes a color "cool" or "warm" > why do we associate red with warmth > what if the sun was blue > what if ocean water looked orange > is water wet

I usually end up forgetting what was making me upset. If it was a big deal I would still remember, but at least I would b less emotional and a bit more rational.

Search up cognitive behavior therapy and dialectical behavior therapy and try 2 practice sumthing similar 2 exercises u would perform w a therapist. Squeeze stress balls. Masturbate (this blog is perfect 4 that lol). Maybe watch some videos done by therapists on youtube. I watched a couple of videos abt therapists reacting 2 fighting in movies and I learned alot (this video was very fun to watch)!

Anyway that's what helps me! Good luck 2 u!!!

[altarflame]

Verbal Consent Problems

I have a huge pet peeve around being asked whether someone can hug me. With most people who would ask, my optimal answer is no (people I want to hug me already know that). But the discomfort around saying no and making the person feel bad/dealing with ensuing awkwardness, is worse than the discomfort of dealing with a hug I don’t want. I HATE being put in this position, particularly in a big group setting with others watching, which makes me feel like in addition to hugging somebody I’ve gotta act like my semi-coerced yes is very genuine.

The more I move through life thinking about this, the more the asking feels coercive. I’m very good at dodging hugs with body language, speech timing, where I am in group placement, etc. People are generally only asking BECAUSE they’re picking up on my hesitance and it’s causing them to pause and ask. But I am pretty confident that in the vast majority of situations, it would be negative for me to answer honestly. When I take too long to answer, scrambling for the ever elusive warm and polite way to say “please don’t,” it causes nervous laughter and increased tension but not, like, an obvious interpretation of my silence as being unenthusiastic (at best). So then there’s relief and hugging, when I acquiesce. It often strikes me as selfish on the part of the hugger.

This is really complicated and kind of too dramatic, for someone such as myself who has a history of dissociating and freeze response related to childhood molestation, and pushy early boyfriends. I am very aware of how disempowering and shitty it feels to be trapped in those interim moments, and to have nobody to blame but myself when I’m not enjoying a hug or the lingering after energy of a hug, since I agreed to it. My personal history doesn’t actually have much to do with those people’s desire to hug and I get it, but I can’t make the correlative feeling go away with my knowing.

Surely relevant: I have sensory processing disorder, so like, I often get headaches from perfume, or nausea from secondhand smoke, I get goosebumps and stomach jumping easily from light touching on tons of spots. Etc.

Anyway the paragraph before last is making it crystal clear to me that I need to come up with a more genuine way to advocate for myself in these situations. It’s weirdly overwhelming to imagine attempting. It makes me feel like a huge dork, and a stick in the mud, in addition to highlighting some of my most pervasive and oldest insecurities.

I get angry sometimes, about how it’s often the most outwardly kind and thoughtful people who both want to hug everyone, and think to ask first. But I actually have WAY less stress around just side hugging real quick without either of us mentioning it, vs the asking bullshit. When the spontaneous hug even happens - because as I said, I also signal in lots of nonverbal ways that I’m not interested, which often works pretty well. It’s hard to not feel that the askers are intentionally ignoring my signals and forcing me to explicitly reject them, or deal with the hug I don’t want. And like, the question thing builds dread and makes all this crap flash through my mind, whereas a spontaneous hug, is too fast and simple for that.

My favorite new people are often the ones who I see notice my signaling and change course, without seeming to take it personally. Dudes who start to step toward me and lift their arms and then pause and step back, without breaking the rhythm of their own sentence or having their smile falter? HEROES. Treasures! Continued excited talking that I did not ruin by being fucking weird? HELL YES.

Sigh.

[kimikitty96]

Goodbye Letter to my Eating Disorder

It’s been hard. The past 3 years were so difficult, I’m surprised I haven’t completely lost myself. From having relationship problems, to deaths in my family (my brother and kitty died), to being sexually assaulted in the gym, to almost losing my mom this past year...suffice it to say, it’s been rather difficult. 

I turned to my old “friend”, Edward. We “met” when I was 8 years old, and lost touch when I started working at 21 years old. Or, at least I thought we lost touch; he just put on a mask. But here he was again. He was there for me when I was struggling the most. No one else understood my pain the way he did, and no one numbed me like he did. He gave me the drive and motivation to get out of bed and to go to the gym; he kept me from faltering on my diet and turn to comfort eating; he continued to cheer me on when I made mistakes and would tell me to keep going. When I have injuries, he’d tell me that my initial weight loss was not due to me exercising, but my eating habits and to not worry, I can still continue! When I got sexually assaulted at my gym, he said to me that I never have to go back to that gym, and that I can go anywhere else to get my “Brazilian Booty”. He suggested I take a trip to Vegas and just enjoy myself, then come back and get serious.

He comforted me when my fiance would reject me, saying if I listened to him, I won’t need my fiance because I’d be able to attract the guy I really wanted, that all I needed was a little push. When my kitty passed away, Edward allowed me to grieve and to celebrate her life by going to a buffet and enjoying seafood, on one condition: I had to make sure that I was right back on track by making sure that I would “let my body rest” from food for a couple of days.

Last July (2019), I went into PHP because I knew something was seriously wrong. Edward was no longer helping me. His voice grew louder in my head, and what used to be gentle nudging became more forceful, more frustrated. Here was his evolution:

-”Oh, you want carbs? Well, that’s okay! You can have carbs and use it as energy for the gym when doing cardio/lower body workout tomorrow! Just make sure you lower your fat intake, okay?”

-”Yes! There’s a food festival! Make sure you get your 10k steps before you go, okay? We’ll eat everything we want, just like those fitness people do on YouTube! You’ve earned it!”

-”Oh, you gained weight...again. I mean...maybe you should lower your calories again. You’re eating a bit more than you’re supposed to, so just make sure your weekly calories are where they’re supposed to be.”

-”Lord, you failed an exam??? Okay, you need to hit the gym harder so you can focus better.”

-”[Fiance] refused to touch you again? It’s been a month since the last time? Why do you even want him to touch you at this point? You should just think about that guy who molested you at the gym, since that’s all you can get at this point.”

“You failed another exam? Jesus christ, you need to focus harder. You’ll never finish community college and get into [#1 dream school] if you continue like this! But if you let your body rest from food, you’ll have mental clarity and will remember your course material better.”

-”Oh, fiance said no to you again. You really need to stop having these “cheat days” or “cheat meals”. He’s getting more and more grossed out by you every day.”

-“Why can’t you just stop eating the junk foods you’re eating? You were able to do it before. You’re so stupid, you can’t even get this right. You know what? I’m going to test your willpower. Go out and buy junk food, and stare at it and say no!”

-”See, he’s flirting with so many other women at his work. This is why he won’t touch you. You’re stupid and ugly; you’re worth nothing unless you are at the top of your class, and weigh less than [UGW]!”

-”Why can’t you stop eating?!?! Why do you have the willpower of a drug addict?! You’re nothing! Get rid of that! You don’t deserve your meal! GET RID OF IT NOW!”

-”JESUS CHRIST, YOU ARE FUCKING STUPID! IT’S YOUR FAULT YOUR FIANCE DON’T WANT YOU! YOU’RE WORTH LESS THAN NOTHING! YOU DESERVED BEING GROPED AT THE GYM BECAUSE THAT IS YOUR WORTH!”

-”See? You failed a class you already took! This is how stupid and [ableist expletive] you are. You can’t even do that shit right. YOU ARE NOTHING. YOU HAVE NEGATIVE WORTH.”

-”Your brother died because he had diabetes. Your mother almost died because of diabetes. They couldn’t control; the shit they put in their mouths, and you will end up with the same fate because your dumb ass can’t even say no to a chip.”

-”Oh, you lost another friend? That’s because you’re a piece of shit. You’ve always been a piece of shit. You deserve to be alone. No one should be subjected to the bullshit that is you. You should just KYS.”

-”No, you can’t have that! You can’t touch food unless I say so! I don’t care that it’s been a week!”

-”No don’t touch food! It’s all poison! It’s going to kill you! Look what it did to your mom and brother! You’re gonna lose your dad too because all food is poison! DON’T TOUCH ANY FOODSTUFFS!!!”

*Me, fainting, at home alone, because I haven’t eaten in a week and my heart rate is in the low 50′s*

-”Why are you being an attention whore? Stop your bitch ass whining and go pee.”

*My response* “Bitch, there’s no one here! Who am I being an attention whore to, my cats?!”

-”Yes! Now stop being a whiny bitch and go pee!”

-”Why are you still here? Why aren’t you doing everyone on this earth a favor and disappear. No one would miss you. They’re not even thinking of you right now. No one misses you now. Everyone is just pretending to like you because they feel sorry for you. They actually really hate you. Just disappear. They don’t want you around anyway.”

-”Leave. Disappear. No one wants you. Just take [redacted], and go to sleep.”

Edward was not helping me. He made it seem like he was, but he wasn’t. He entered my life during a time when I was vulnerable and made me believe he would be my redemption. He knew me; he knew what was best for me. He could make me better/stronger/more beautiful/more desirable/smarter; all I had to do was listen.

That’s not who he is. He is a monster. He’s worse than that; he is pure evil that nothing and no one should ever allowed in. He took what I give him, and it’s not enough. It’s never enough. Once I did what he told me to do, he tells me to go farther because while it’s good, I can do better; I can be better. He destroyed everything I touch and turned it against me so that I couldn’t rely on anyone but him. He isolated me and introduced me to his partner-in-crime, Shame. The more Edward spoke, the more Shame consumed. 

When I thought Edward was giving me drive and motivation to go workout so I could improve myself, in reality, he was telling me my body was grotesque and that I needed to punish myself because I mistreated my body. When he tried to keep me from faltering on my diet, he was telling me I shouldn’t eat [xyz] so I can be healthy, when in reality, he was encouraging me to binge/purge/restrict/fast, causing heart palpitations, unstable-low blood pressure, gastrointestinal distress, brain fog, increased bouts of depression, and severe low self esteem; instead of being healthy, he made me extremely unhealthy. When he continued to cheer me on whenever I injured myself due to too much physical exertion and would tell me to “reign my diet in”, the reality was that he caused these injuries by telling me that I had to keep going no matter how hard I trained, that I couldn’t eat enough calories so I could heal and recover, and that even though I was injured, I couldn’t rest and had to continue to exercise. When I got sexually assaulted at my gym, he graciously allowed me to transfer gyms and continue to workout and ignore my mental health when in reality...he wanted to keep me mentally weak so that I would continue to rely on him because he made clothes fit better.

He made it so clothes can fit better; clothes I bought, that I wasn’t allowed to wear, because my body wasn’t where he wanted it to be, therefore I didn’t deserve to wear them yet. 

The past few months have been the most difficult out of the 3 years I’d been struggling; COVID, finishing school and transferring to uni, cheating on my fiance, my mom almost dying (twice), and really delving deep inside me to come to terms with everything I went through and being completely honest with myself...I never want to go through that again. But I am extremely grateful I did, because I saw who Edward really was. I saw him for the toxic, vile, awful evil entity he always was, and now I get to say goodbye.

To Edward:

Thank you for who you were when you back into my life (again). Thank you for helping me cope with my issues, and for keeping my head afloat; you did the best you could, given the circumstances you had. I was broken, hurt, lost, and saw nothing good in me. You showed me that I can be better, and that I can do better. I just have to push a little harder, and I’ll eventually get what I want.

You gave me something to hold on to in the beginning, and thankfully, I figured out your toxicity before it was too late for me. This is me telling you that I want to part ways. I know you’ll still be around, because you are my oldest “friend”, and I know you will do your very best to get me to succumb to your ways. But like you taught me, if I just have a little bit of willpower and a little bit of strength and perseverance, I can achieve what I want; that the only person stopping me is myself. I can either move forward, or sabotage myself once more; it was, and is, completely up to me, isn’t that right?

Thank you for the lessons you taught me. I will utilize them to fight you every single day of my life. Yes, I will have setbacks. Yes, I will falter. But like you taught me; if I falter, I need to keep going. What was it you used to tell me? If I miss a workout, or eat something I wasn’t supposed to, that I needed to work twice as hard the next day? That’s exactly what I’m going to do. If I let you in, I will tell myself that it’s okay to make a mistake, and that I can always turn my back on you whenever you appear. The only difference between your lesson and my OWN words is that I will forgive myself for allowing you back in. 

I want to thank you for all the vitriolic words you’ve shouted at me. If it weren’t for that, I would’ve never seen the kindest words uttered to me by the ones who do love and care about me (yes, the people in my life love me despite your insistence that they don’t). I want to thank you for the discipline you’ve instilled upon me. If it weren’t for that, I would’ve never remembered the drive I have at succeeding at endeavors that mean a lot to me. And you know what means a lot to me? 

I MEAN A LOT TO ME!

So I will work my hardest to make sure I fight you every single god damn day of my life, and in doing so, empower me to be the best me I can. And you know what it means to be the best me? It’s to be my most authentic and honest and forgiving self. I means I can finally love and appreciate me the way I love and appreciate everyone in my life.

This is my goodbye. Don’t let the door hit you on the way out.

Kitty